Distant Worlds
by fragrantlily90
Summary: The shed never happened. Naomi was too scared and within weeks, it was history. Emily at Bath uni and Naomi at Goldsmiths. Both trying to heal the scars of the broken relationship in similar ways. Both hiding, neither succeeding. But something of huge significance happens and their distant worlds collide once again. Shit summary, but give it a try?
1. Chapter 1

**Hi. This is actually a new story. Bits of it have been hanging around for a while on my iPad in fragmented note form, but this is the first time I've tried to bring it together as something semi coherent. I know the fandom is pretty dead nowadays, but sometimes you just have to throw something out there and hope it still has an audience. There are still a couple of writers putting stuff up, but in the main, moribund is the word I keep associating with the FF Skins world. But all it needs to get _me_ interested is a new story from someone or a re read of one of the thousands of really great tales already up and I'm back in the world of those crazy kids and their convoluted love stories.**

**So...Emily and Naomi split after the Sophia incident. Naomi never went to the shed to ask for forgiveness and within weeks was hollow eyed at Goldsmiths, trying unsuccessfully to forget those warm brown Fitch looks and cupid lips. **

**Emily? She's still in Bristol, taking her degree and being just as unsuccessful at forgetting stunning blue eyes and peroxide hair. Both unhappy...but dealing with their grief in similar ways. We catch up with both girls on a Saturday night. Warning for somewhat graphic descriptions of sexual activity. Trust me, I am a doctor (no _really_), so it will get better for both of them. But _very_ slowly…**

Emily

The night sky was a lurid yellow and indigo under the bitter sodium lamp clinging to a scarred and worn brickwork above them in the alley behind this anonymous club. The heavy bass inside continued to thump against the walls, muted but visceral. Their breath plumed and spun in the wintry atmosphere, but neither girl was paying much attention to the frigid climate. Emily was nibbling none too gently at the taller girls smooth neck, a hand holding on to a bare shoulder, as her other one tried for the fourth time to slide up an indecently short leather skirt. But the student who'd been so floppy and willing inside the club, now seemed reluctant to go through with what her drunken kisses had promised.

An hour and several cocktails had been spent priming this 'willing' victim for a breathless and hopefully satisfying knee trembling shag. Emily was getting quite skilled at spotting her prey these days. A few minutes spent scanning the crowd for a pretty face... a glance, a sideways look. A winning smile returned and a slow meander across the crowded floor, all the time keeping watch for stray partners the petite brunette might have missed. Once the trap was set, a little dirty dancing, some low level groping and a not so subtle suggestion that they 'get some air'

Most weekends it worked. Straight, bi or gay, the girl in question was normally charmed by Emily's friendly chat, curvy body and those deadly brown eyes. Most of the victims were first year students, away from home for the first time and eager to experiment. Away from family and old friends, they were easy meat for a determined approach.

And Emily had been very determined these past few months. Every weekend an opportunity to put the aching past further behind her. Every week another milestone in healing her broken heart.

It wasn't working of course. The hook ups had become almost routine now. Some heated kissing against a cold, upright surface, some sly stroking over clothes, then the furtive grab for the main prize. A small, surprised squeak, like a rat being fed to a python, then liquid heat, surrender and the rush of endorphins brought on by another conquest. Emily was nothing if not thorough and practised in seduction. Her fingers were skilful and relentless. A girl gasping total surrender against her neck was the reward she craved. It was almost academic whether they returned the favour...mostly, Emily was content to let the moment pass more often than not. A brief kiss of thanks, some fumbling with errant underwear and the satisfied student fled without offering something back.

But tonight, the MDMA Emily had taken an hour ago was still thundering through her nervous system. She still wanted this willowy redhead to come...yeah, that was a given. But the ache between her own legs demanded something back this time.

But….

Emily sighed heavily as the girls hand gripped her wrist again and she twisted away from the brunettes hungry mouth.

"Jesus Emily..._careful_...I can't go to a lecture tomorrow looking like I've been gnawed?"

The smaller girl sighed again. What had seemed a dead cert while she was dirty dancing with the girl on the club floor under the speakers was proving to be a whole lot trickier now the outside air had semi sobered her partner up. Looking over the girls shoulder at the yellowing, dusty brickwork, she sighed again. Twenty fucking quid on stupidly priced cocktails and a line of the best coke she could afford on a student grant looked like being a waste of time... The coke and MDMA she had snorted herself was really kicking in now and every nerve ending in her body was jangling for action.

The girl had seemed the perfect target an hour ago. A pretty first year...all wide eyes and away from home for her first term. Attractive in a slightly androgynous way...shortish hair, tight leggings and a tighter top, dancing with her equally gauche mates. Ripe for plucking...or fucking as Emily had muttered to herself crudely, watching her victim dancing in front of her. Glances...several glances swapped. Emily's knowing and direct. The other girl...Jenny? Jeanie?...it had been hard to hear anything coherent in the deafening atmosphere of pounding bass….more shy, but _definitely_ interested. Not a total virgin then...but.

She tried another tack. It was getting late. In another half hour, the place would start emptying. This alleyway would become way too busy for what she had in mind. Other couples would be seeking a quiet spot to kiss, to grope, to fuck. Emily didn't fancy sharing the space with rutting males or going home with this ache in her fanny unsatisfied. Lying alone in her student digs, having to rely on a battery powered partner to scratch the itch, while the streets echoed to drunker, happier clientele.

No...she needed to try something else. Something subtler.

Taking her mouth away from the girls neck (and noting the lurid bite mark already appearing on the pale skin with something approaching guilt) she gently pulled her partners face round towards her own. Normally she spent as little time kissing as she could get away with. Too fucking intimate by far. Kissing was something she associated with the past, bouncy castles and long afternoons in a suburb bedroom in a pretty yellow fronted house….but needs must.

Forcing another fake smile onto her face, she pressed her lips against the pale ones opposite. A small moan and the relaxing of the hand holding her wrist almost made her smile, but she resisted the urge to feel triumphant. All was not lost quite yet then.

Ten minutes later, the two girls hastily rearranged their clothing. Emily smiling inwardly at a mission accomplished...well...sort of. Her hook up was blushing furiously at the recent memory of her vocal surrender to those talented fingers. Her single hoarse cry as Emily drove into her with straight fingered insistence, feeling the soft flesh around her fingers contract again and again, was testament to the skill being applied. Rather less successfully, but with the eagerness of someone on the verge of imminent orgasm, Jeannie had managed, with Emilys help, to return the favour. It was a pale imitation of the sort of climaxes the twin had enjoyed in the not too distant past. Shorn of love and blissful admiration, it was a mechanical conclusion. An itch scratched, a need satisfied. Nothing more.

There was no need for empty promises and exchanged numbers as they parted. Emily didn't ask and the girl didn't offer. They went their separate ways like the strangers they were.

XXX

Naomi

"Come on Naoms...help a guy out here?"

Naomi looked sideways in utter disgust at the boy next to her in bed. Post coitus, she had no interest _whatsoever_ in offering any such 'favour' to her recent conquest. The shag had been average at best and the hopeful look in the guy's eyes as he waved his newly revived organ in her direction was utterly misplaced.

"You're having a fucking laugh, yeah?" she said flatly "Your dick, my mouth? Not a fucking prayer mate"

"Aww come on babe...that gear was fucking ace...look, I'm hard as a rock again...I'll..."

Naomi interrupted quickly. Whatever suggestion the boy (Robert...Robin?) was about to make needed shutting down immediately.

"Look...err... _Rob_?" She shortened his name, just in case she chose the wrong one. He'd been a docile and willing diversion, but she was sobering rapidly now. Usually, when the questions from her classmates and her own frustration got too much, she solved the problem with something more...al fresco. Shagging a random against a wall might not be the most romantic way to satisfy her urges, but it was less complicated than allowing anyone into her inner sanctum. Small and cramped it might be. Full of well thumbed books and notepads, but it was _hers_.

Not as comfortable or familiar as her room at home, but that space held so many ghosts and unsettling reminders of her past that she left Bristol with an almighty sigh of relief. The past, and a certain brown eyed beauty was done. Dusted. The relentless ache in her heart wasn't fading anything like quickly enough for comfort, but nights like this usually pushed it into the background for a while.

But now she had a problem to deal with. Robert/Robin was still waving his distended organ as if it was a flute attempting to hypnotise a cobra. She could barely keep the look of disgust off her face. Jesus, she thought...that thing has been inside me. Naomi girl...you need to take a long hard look at yourself?

She sighed.

"Its been great...no _really_?" she said as his expression recognised the coming brush off "...but I...I have to get up early for a...a…."

"A lecture?" he said helpfully, at least taking his hand off the erection he had been cradling so possessively up till now.

Naomi nodded quickly.

"On a fucking Sunday?" he said, eyes narrowing.

Shit, she thought...its bloody Saturday. Stupid Naomi.

"No n..not a _lecture_, sorry...I have a...a cram session planned with a couple of the girls from my study grou..."

Robin/Robert shook his head dismissively, then mercifully turned to the side, no doubt looking for his discarded jeans and t shirt. Naomi forced herself not to cheer at his imminent departure. He was a nice enough guy and breaking her 'no overnight' rule had been her mistake, not his.

"Look...I...I..." she started, but his pride had obviously been badly dented and his back was a mute rebuke to her attempted apology.

"No problem babe" he said, not turning round. Her instinct was to tell him that she was no ones _babe_ (not nowadays anyway, an inner voice goaded), but she curbed her usual sarcasm with difficulty. Best let him keep the high ground.

He stood, fully dressed by the bed as she clutched the single sheet to her chest. Naomi wasn't normally modest, but with him clothed, she felt more than a little vulnerable.

"Shall I call you?" he tried, his voice betraying a hope he must have known was forlorn. Naomi's eyes flitted to the place she'd left her phone, but made no move to get it.

"Right" he said bitterly "Well...I'd say its been great, but to be honest, the sex was a bit one sided, yeah?"

Naomi coloured at his sudden perception. He'd been energetic and relatively pleasant to shag, but nothing more. The fact that she'd spent the past few months hooking up with occasional guys instead of girls wasn't actually fooling anyone, let alone herself. The line she'd used when in bed with Emily all those months ago rang even more hollow now.

"_Maybe I only like boys...apart from you_"

Yeah, fucking right.

Robin/Robert left without waiting for her to make any more lame excuses. The door closed behind him firmly, making the blonde start. But her mind was already on other things…

XXX

_A hundred and fifty miles away, a dishevelled man with a few days growth on his chin stood next to the house phone he had been staring at for over half an hour. He knew the call needed to be made, but his hands seemed to be frozen, numb._

_How the fuck do you tell an only daughter that her mother is dead?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter then. Not so much Naomi and Emily, at least at first, but a few family sized dollops of that angst I promised you. Poor Kieran has a duty to perform...and it's not proving easy.**

**Thanks for my reviews guys, it really matters!**

Kieran

He opened his eyes slowly as a beam of harsh sunlight bathed the couch he had been dozing on. Dozing being a generous description of his activities over the past few hours. Yesterday...and more importantly, last night, seemed to be cloaked in black cotton wool. As if his subconscious was trying to muffle the memory.

But he sat up anyway, his back creaking, and with a muffled groan he regarded the half empty Jameson bottle and toppled glass on the coffee table with a rueful stare. In normal times, the allure of Irish whiskey would be a comforting friend, even with his pending hangover. Brought up in rural County Cork, the family home had always had a bottle or two in the faded mahogany drinks cabinet in the sitting room. Various relatives would come and go during the week and invariably glasses would be filled and quickly emptied by uncles, aunts and friends, the bottles passed around freely as "_Slainte shugat's_" echoed round the bustling house. As a young teenager, Kieran had been introduced to the bitterly antiseptic liquid almost as soon as he left school. Tradition died hard in rural Ireland.

But today, the familiar bottle brought no comfort. Last nights events came rushing back to fill the void in his head.

An ordinary night. He'd got in from Roundview College...on a fucking Saturday of all days...teacher training day be buggered he grumbled to himself even as he walked through the door, hooking his tatty green tweed jacket onto the hall stand and kicking off the equally road worn brown loafers. His nostrils had twitched, expecting the smell of cooking supper as usual. But the house had been silent and odour free. For a brief moment, irritation at the prospect of waiting to be fed made him grimace. But marriage had softened him. Gina had softened him. They just...fitted. Her worst excesses of vegetarian zeal had subsided over the past few months. Now he could at least expect meat a couple of times a week, even if he had to endure the reproachful stares of his wife as he forked roast chicken into his mouth. And her thick vegetarian stews were frankly delicious, although wild horses wouldn't drag _that_ admission from his mouth.

But something else was missing along with the odour. Gina was a sucker for 70's music, so he'd grown used to hearing her hum along to Chicago or Dylan on the radio as she prepared the evening meal. But the silence tonight was total.

"_Gina?...__W__ife of mine...your husband's home from the coal face, __ravenous__ and ready fo__r__ whatever Godawful concoction you're conjuring up from that lentil heavy cookbook...show yourself woman?"_

His tone was gentle, the jibes about her culinary skills more ritual than genuine. Cold silence greeted that too, He huffed and strode quickly into the kitchen, expecting to find Gina bent over a book or pamphlet on the scrubbed kitchen table. But when he got there, the room was empty. He racked his brain for anything he'd been told about marches or demo's before leaving this morning. Although Gina had forsworn most active campaigning these days, she was still a sucker for a good cause. But nothing. No Gina, no books. Just an empty room and…

...then he noticed the half open kitchen door. It was still light outside, even though winter was reluctant to release its icy grip on Bristol. His face softened. Right so then...she'd be out there in the little fecking greenhouse, potting bloody chillies or something. He shook his head and went out himself.

The greenhouse door was ajar as he reached it.

"The cold will get in Gina...you'll kill off all those fecking..." was as far as he got. By the wooden potting table was a pair of very familiar legs. It took a second for his tired brain to process what that meant. Ludicrously, he was about to make some sort of sarcastic remark about not digging planting beans in a concrete floor. But as he got closer, reality hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. She wasn't moving...at all.

The next few minutes seemed like an hour and a split second all at once. He grabbed her legs, pulling her body from its position half under the table.

"Gina..._Gina_" he said frantically "...what the hell are you doi.."

When her pale face came into view, he almost dropped her legs in shock. Her eyes were wide open, blank. Those beautiful eyes...the ones that she'd passed on to her wilful daughter, registered nothing. Dropping to his knees, Kieran almost sobbed as he rubbed her hands uselessly and shook her arms.

"Gina,,,oh fucking hell Gina...please no...for the love of _God_ no..."

He made some clumsy attempts to revive her, pressing vaguely down on her chest as he knelt beside her on the unforgiving cold concrete, then pressed his mouth to hers. Cursing himself for paying absolutely no attention to the first aid course he had been sent on only two months ago, his brain nevertheless registered the coldness of her lips. Lips he had kissed a thousand times before. But not like this. A strangled sob escaped his mouth as his efforts failed to produce a single breath or heartbeat. Frantically he scrabbled in his trouser pockets, finally pulling out a battered phone. He thumbed 999 with fingers that at first refused to obey basic commands, finally stuttering out the word _ambulance_ and answering the call centres clipped questions about his wife.

"_Is she breathing?"_

"_Can you find a pulse?"_

"_Have you tried CPR?"_

His despairing cry that he just needed a fecking ambulance was ignored.

"_An ambulance is on route sir...__I need you to__begin__regular__ chest compressions, __twice a second if possible...__then __every thirty seconds, attempt to give your wife some __air__, seal your mouth over hers and..."_

The voice went on, but it felt like he was listening to her through a long, echoing tunnel.

The sound of an ambulance siren and the reflected flashing of blue lights was the only thing that did made him move. In his heart, he knew it was already too late. Those loving eyes hadn't shown a single flicker since he found her and her skin was chilled...as cold and lifeless as the concrete below her.

Then there were brisk people in green uniforms asking rapid questions, putting down heavy backpacks and surrounding Gina.

It could have been minutes, it could have been an hour. All he remembered was the sad, but businesslike look on the woman paramedic's face at the end of their attempts at resuscitation.

"I'm really sorry sir...um...Kieran, is it? I'm afraid...uh...your wife has died. We've done what we can, but I think she was already gone...by the time you called us?"

The rest was a painful blur. People arriving...a doctor he vaguely recognised from the local surgery talking in low tones with the medics, then writing something on a pad. More sad faces. Someone asking him if he wanted to follow them to the BRI. He shook his head. Another voice...asking if there was anyone who could be with him?

It was only when the house was at last empty and the cup of undrunk cold tea in his hand got too heavy too hold, that he began to regain the ability to think. Gina was gone...a heart attack, they'd said gently. Wouldn't have felt a thing...probably died instantly. Just words, but it was only now that they made any sense. She was gone...he was alone.

He pulled the comforting bottle of Irish whiskey from under the sink, washed out a thick bottomed tumbler and sat heavily on the blue and white chair, resting his head in his hands.

A coldness which had nothing to do with the unheated house sank over him.

The first generous slug of neat whiskey burned his throat and made his eyes water. It was only then that his internal misery was penetrated by a single word.

_Naomi_.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph" he rasped hoarsely to himself "...the wee girl...for _fecks_ sake Kieran..._Naomi_?"

That wilful, sarcastic and headstrong girl he had grown to love like the father she should have had. Gone to university in London now her pretty little redhead had left her in an explosion of tears and recriminations. Alone in the big city...and now he had to give her the worst news anyone can ever get.

"_Gina's dead_" he said out loud, after sinking the rest of the full glass, trying the dreadful words out in his mouth for the first time. They sounded so cold, so final. He shuddered. How could he ever…

But he had to. Naomi needed to know. For a second he considered getting the car out and driving up to London. Something as awful as this surely needed to be said to her face? But as he sat with the empty glass rolling in his hand, the neat spirit burning into his gut, he faced facts. He'd already had more than enough to get himself arrested for drink driving. Plus the ancient Fiesta with the wonky exhaust and inappropriate passenger seat springs would probably break down well before he ever got onto the M4. It barely made the 2 mile round trip to college.

Instead, he picked up the phone again from the table. Maybe he could find the words, once Naomi answered?

Five tries later, he looked at the clock and realised it was after midnight. Time had been an irrelevant concept for too long. Of course...Saturday night...the wee girl would be out dancing...enjoying herself. It was easy to persuade himself that phoning her Sunday morning would be better all round. Another three tumblers of whiskey and a thousand tears later, he slumped onto the couch with the lights off…

But now it was morning and it had to be faced. Groaning at the intense thudding in his temple, he scrubbed his now four day growth and stood up shakily.

The phone in his hand, he walked slowly to the kitchen again and drank a full tumbler of cold water. The inrush of fluid made his stomach lurch, but as he stared at himself in the mirror opposite, he knew there was no point in putting this off any longer. Thumbing the keypad, he found the number again. One glance at the clock told him it was after 10 am...even a first year uni student must be up now.

A hundred and fifty miles away, Naomi was just finishing her scrupulous erasure of the unfortunate Robin/Robert from the flat. She'd emptied the bedside bin with a disgusted look on her face, using rubber gloves to dispose of the...item...deposited there last night. Then she opened the window wide and used the last of a bottle of surface cleaner to erase any trace of the visitor she had stumbled in here with after the party. The bedclothes were stripped and shoved into a bin bag for a trip to the laundrette. Cushions were plumped and last nights clothes put in with the bedding.

Finally, she used an air freshener to erase any trace of last nights...activities.

It was only then, when she found her phone shoved between two books on the table which served as her study station, that she noticed the five missed calls from last night.

"_Kieran_?" she said to herself wonderingly...what the fuck would he want with her on a Saturday night. Her mum and her 'friend' (she still refused to call him her step dad) were normally loved up on the couch all evening after something thick and lentilly?

Her mum might call once in a while to check on her, but normally that would be on a weekday evening…?

As she stared blankly at the phone, it burst into life, making her drop it in shock.

"_Fuck, fuck FUCK_" she ranted "..._Jesus...heart attack anyone?_"

Angrily, she thumbed the green answer symbol and spoke into the speaker

"_Yes_?"

"_Naomi...its Kieran...where are you at the moment?_"

Naomi's brow creased in puzzlement. What the fuck difference did it make.

"I_n my flat...what the fuck Kieran...what's the dizzy cow done now?_"

There was a pause, which stopped another smart remark being said. The silence made her heart beat hard.

"_Kieran?_"

"_Naomi love...its your mum...she's, oh fecking hell this is...she's uh.. died suddenly...I'm... so sorry...it was last nig..._"

The phone dropped from Naomi's hand and she jumped back from it as if it was a live snake. She could hear Kieran still speaking but her hand was over her mouth as she crouched on the single chair as if she was a small child, told off for being naughty. She curled in on herself as the horrible words echoed again and again in her spinning head.

XXX

**OK, not the most pleasant chapter to write, or read I suppose, but there will be Naomily soon, I promise. Events will conspire, as they always do. Comments and reviews always gratefully received!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Third chapter, so I'm hoping there are still a couple of readers?**

**Still angsty I'm afraid. Naomi's on her way home…**

"Fucking Bristol" Naomi muttered darkly under her breath as the train sat stubbornly 500 metres outside Temple Meads. Bad enough the train was packed...full of chattering children and crumpled, grumpy adults since she boarded at Paddington. She'd had to take pot luck after packing a rucksack, eyes full of unshed tears and a sob always threatening in her throat. After picking up the phone again, to hear Kieran still bumbling through an explanation of his terrible news, she'd allowed her sensible head to ghost walk her through the platitudes and sorrow coming from the other end. The words '_Mums dead_' kept echoing in her head like a soundtrack stuck in a loop. It didn't seem real for over an hour...long enough for her to cram a change of clothes into her battered student pack and leave a message on the Campus Support Office phone for the Deputy Deans attention.

It wasn't a long message.

"_Naomi Campbell here. My mums just died...it's err..Sunday. Going home to Bristol to sort things out. __Dunno when I'll be back.__ Sorry_"

There didn't seem to be anything else worth saying. The facts were as bleak and cold as her message.

It wasn't until the train got past Reading that her brain allowed her to properly think about what she'd been told only a couple of hours ago. Practical issues now sorted, seat reserved and an exorbitant amount of money creamed from her student loan for the ludicrously priced last minute train journey, it was only at that moment that she finally broke.

Her luggage and tissues were on the overhead rack, but she ignored it and stumbled blindly past an argumentative family of four who were in the aisle, blocking her exit, barely making it to the noisy and smelly GWR toilet before slamming the door closed and, crouching over a stained sink, bawled like a small child for ten minutes straight. Twice there was a knock at the door. Naomi didn't care if it was an incontinent pensioner or the guard looking for her ticket. Both knocks received a hoarse and definite "_Fuck __**off**__!_".

Luckily for the leg crossing passengers, there were two other toilets on the service. They'd just have to walk a bit further. It took half the available hand tissue and several lengths of loo paper, but she eventually got her crying under control and her cheeks dry. She looked at her red rimmed eyes and waxy face in the pitted mirror bleakly. Shrugging her shoulders, she gradually assumed her patented defence mechanism against any outside threat, whether it was this vicious cruel shock, or the subtler, but almost as viscerally painful loss of a certain small redhead with brown eyes. The Campbell walls were methodically put back up.

Leaving the unpleasant restroom facility and, walking with her head held up along the swaying carriage, she ignored curious looks and the occasional hushed whisper. Fuck them all, she thought fiercely, fuck them _all_.

Some sort of composure restored, she spent the rest of the interminable journey looking blankly out at the blurred countryside the train passed. After a couple of desultory attempts, the passenger next to her...a plump middle aged woman wearing some hideous tweed two piece...gave up trying to engage a conversation with the silent and rigid backed teenage girl next to her. The sole interruption into Naomi's tightly wound world of pain was the train guard. Wordlessly, she held out the stub, then accepted it back into her hand without a thank you. The guard and middle aged woman exchanged a look which said '_kids today_' without words but Naomi was already gazing sightlessly again out of the window.

But now as the train stood just outside Temple Meads, the electric engines below the carriage ticking loudly, she had to use all of her self control not to scream aloud in frustration.

It was probably only five minutes, but it seemed several hours at least before the driver announced cheerfully over the speaker that the train would be arriving at the station in seconds.

Naomi waited until the carriage had emptied completely before sighing and stretching her stiff body She stood and retrieved the battered rucksack with its Goldsmiths and Momentum badges from the overhead rack before wearily making her way onto the platform.

Exiting the station, she didn't expect to see Kieran waiting. His unreliability was legendary after all. _Mum always said __he_…

She snapped off that thought almost desperately. The world seemed to be divided into two distinct elements since this morning. Before and after Gina Campbell. It didn't seem credible…

But waiting he was. Looking as shit as she felt, she thought tiredly. Normally, when she made a rare excursion back to her home town, she was almost furtive when faced with all the familiar sights and sounds of Bristol. Emily Fitch loomed over everywhere like a mute reproach, making her scuttle for a taxi, then hole up for the duration inside her house, as if a random Fitch was likely to appear in the street at any moment. Unlikely, obviously...specially as she knew Emily was studying at Bath Uni...probably scoring lustily with every pretty lesbian with eyes to see her unmatched beauty, Naomi used to torment herself with visions of other hands and lips on her love bitterly. But today, she really couldn't care less. Something huge and dreadful had happened and everything else seemed unimportant in comparison, even the loss of the love of her life.

_Mums dead_...she heard in her head again as Kieran raised his eyes, sending her an uncertain smile. She found her feet moving of their own accord...quickly. By the time she reached him, she was almost running. He opened his arms and enfolded her tightly in brown and musty tweed. Then the tears came again.

"_Oh lassie...my poor wee lassie_" he repeated as she sobbed in his arms.

XXX

They made the journey back without mechanical breakdown (barely) and without the notorious passenger seat spring taking liberties with her underwear For a brief second Naomi allowed herself to remember the first time she had been in this old rust bucket. If she'd only known how tiny her problems were back then. Emily was in full on devotion mode, turning up anywhere and everywhere, and trying _ever_ so hard to brighten Naomi's day. Kieran had just been a slightly disconcerting, foul mouthed lecturer then, at least until he misread the signals so disastrously he tried to kiss her. But all those things..and those that followed...the cat flap, the lake and even the bleak and terrifying few minutes on that car park roof, when she had thought, just for a second, that her beautiful and adoring Emily was about to throw herself off in despair at Naomi's betrayal… even _that_, paled into insignificance at the reality of where she was now and what had happened.

_Mums dead_.

When Kieran turned into her street and the familiar yellow fronted chalet came into view, Naomi bit her lip so hard she could taste the salt of her own blood. The house stood there mutely, as if nothing significant had happened. Naomi's bedroom was at the front and looking up, she could imagine her mother looking out of the window, making googly eyes at Kieran as he helped her with her bike. Happy memories. All gone now.

_Mums dead_.

She made it inside without collapsing again. The hallway was the same. The kitchen still dominated by the oversized black board. Domestic duties had given way to dates for holidays and curt instructions for Kieran to '_remember the bins_' and '_Do NOT pay the window cleaner, because he's missed the bathroom window AGAIN_'.

It was like Gina was still here. Naomi could hear her voice as clearly as if she was next to them. Kieran coughed gently behind her and she moved aside to let him in.

_Mums dead_.

XXX

A week later, she was no closer to dealing with reality. The official stuff passed her by on the whole. The light purple certificate of death, signed by the family doctor was in the kitchen drawer. No need for a post mortem, death was easily attributed to a massive heart attack. Nothing suspicious to bring Bristol's finest into the picture. Which was some relief at least. Her mum had nothing but contempt for the law and Naomi's only brush with the local force was that single uncomfortable interview with detectives after Sophia Moore's death. The one where she had lied about even knowing the girl...the one that led to her cute but relentless girlfriend going all amateur sleuth and finding out just _how_ well Naomi had known the tragic teenager. All in all, she was glad the formalities were over. People came and went, neighbours, friends of her mums, activists from all over the South West. Every visit, every meaningless drone of commiseration and pity, washed over a silent Naomi like an invisible tide.

Kieran tried his best to keep her mind occupied. But once the crowd of sympathisers had receded and the house was empty, there really was nothing to do except wait for the funeral in ten days time.

Gina, of course, had thought about this day. A humanist ceremony. No vicars or hymns. Just a simple cremation in a willow coffin. Then a short drive to the Woodlands Burial Trust for an equally simple interment of the ashes in a beautiful glade.

Just what she wanted.

But dear God, Naomi thought, in the silence and relative safety of her old room...not _this_ soon?

Her room was spookily similar to the way it had been before she left for uni. The childish candle lights around the headrail were gone, but apart from that it looked the same. Same bedding, same sink and mirror that she had stared into with Emily Fitches little yellow post it note stuck to her face. And the same comfortable bed that they had used over and over again, never quite sating their love and lust for each other.

She couldn't bear it. When Kieran was out one morning, arranging some ecologically sound flowers for the grave, Naomi set to changing the room as fundamentally possible as she could without knocking down walls.

Gina's absence was a heavy weight over the whole house...but the memories and reminders of that sweet redhead (was she still that now?) were an unbearable extra she could do something about at least.

The wardrobe was moved to the other side of the room, as was the bed. She packed away books and posters...anything that reminded her of that happy time. When an hour later, sweaty and wild haired, she paused and looked around, the room was almost unrecognisable. She blew a stray lock of hair away from her eyes, brushed a hand across her sticky forehead and surveyed her work.

Not perfect...but it would do. Her legs ached to match the headache she seemed to get every day. But at least she had done something positive. A cup of tea, she decided...yes. A cup of proper tea.

Walking downstairs, she steeled herself for the trip to the kitchen. That room was always the hardest to face. Gina was everywhere in the house...bit the kitchen was the room she still occupied. Nothing in that small, old fashioned space wasn't her. Naomi bit back a small sob that threatened to escape. _Tea_ then, she scolded her weak and frightened self.

The kettle whistled on the hob after a few minutes and Naomi fussed around the pine dresser, selecting an anonymous mug. Her own, and her mothers favourite, were buried at the back...alongside another...the one with the word '**Emily**' in flowery writing on its pink surface.

Just as she was pouring the tea, the front door reverberated to a firm knock.

Naomi sighed and for a moment, was tempted to pretend to be out. She stood undecided, with her hands resting on the scrubbed wooden table.

Fuck it, she thought. If its more commiserations, I'm gonna do the decent thing for about 5 fucking seconds. Any more than that and her patience would run out.

Walking quickly to the door, she didn't pause to look through the fluted glass panel. If she had, she would probably never have opened it. She swung the door open in one move and adopted her newly acquired mourning daughter face. For a nano second.

"_Hello Naomi_" the figure in front of her said brightly.

Naomi's hand went over her mouth and she actually swayed back. The brown eyes and lustrous hair were the same...but the expression wasn't the usual one.

"K..._Katie_?" she said hoarsely

**OK, more soon, and of course...where Katie goes...another beautiful Fitch is never far away...or is she?**

**Answers on a postcard, or just comments would be well appreciated?**

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Bit more daylight in this chapter. I'm getting there...I'm getting there!**

Katie swept past Naomi without waiting to be asked. Naomi's mouth twisted in faint disapproval. Nothing much changes, she thought sourly, but followed the older twin into the hall and then the lounge anyway. She was more comfortable there. She felt absurdly grateful that Katie hadn't headed straight for the kitchen. (No, but Emily _would_ have, her inner voice sniped) Naomi ignored it and the other assorted cacophonies in her head regarding the astonishing fact that a Fitch twin was _in her house._

Regaining some sort of composure, she stood and waited as Katie found a place for her bag (designer, inevitably), then perched her tight arse daintily on the very edge of the battered couch, as if it contained something catching. A sharp response entered Naomi's head, but it was stifled instantly when her brain randomly reminded her that _that_ was the very spot, aeons ago, where she had knelt willingly in front of a naked Emily and proceeded to comprehensively lick her to a noisy orgasm, while her mother was out shopping.

It was enough to stop her sniping at the obviously uncomfortable twin, but memories like that seemed wildly out of place right now. She decided to assume her normal sarcastic, defensive self. It seemed prudent, with Katie looking at her as if she'd just emerged from a primordial swamp.

"So….to what do I owe this rare pleasure, Katiekins?" she asked curiously, knowing the nickname had annoyed the hell out of the older twin at college.

Katie flicked a stray lock of expensively styled hair from her brown eyes and looked up at Naomi.

"Straight to business...nothing much changes with you, does it Campbell?"

The ritual swap of semi insulting dialogue was familiar, so neither took umbrage at the tone. Katie smiled thinly.

"Still without a functioning bathroom then…?" she grinned at Naomi's dishevelled appearance.

The sudden rush of deja vu _that_ remark produced made Naomi close her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, the amusement in Katies own was gone. The look she gave Naomi then, was suddenly less guarded.

"It's really shit about your mum...I'm genuinely sorry, Naomi?" Katies face registered the truth in that statement.

For a split second, Naomi considered rejecting the kindness. They'd never been friends, even when Emily had (briefly) moved in and Katie was a lot more comfortable with their intense relationship. _Amicable foes_ was the smart sobriquet JJ had given them one night in the pub. It fitted, even though Cook had needed Effy to explain it to him. After his '_Naomi backwards is I moan_' crack he seemed to have developed a little more confidence around the others. Naomi didn't want to remember the _other_ reason his self worth had increased...too fucking painful by half.

But all bets were off nowadays...weren't they? Naomi sighed and found a seat by the lounge table. Close enough, but not to close to this unexpected visitor. She took a moment to study this new version of Emily's sister. Still impeccably made up. But much less waggish. Gone was the over use of blusher and eye liner. Her hair was obviously salon cared for, but it hung naturally, softly over her shoulders, lustrously chestnut. (Naomi suppressed the instant urge to ask Katie if Emily too had abandoned vivid red and reverted to her natural look)

Katies clothes were still designer, but again, less in your face than in the past. Tight blue. True Religion jeans and a pair of shiny black ankle boots. A classy blue shirt, without her previous insistence on a cleavage taking centre stage. And a simple black jacket with silver piping on the collar and cuffs. She looked...Naomi searched for the words as the silence lengthened ..._comfortable_ in her skin, these days.

So she settled on a simple response. It seemed safer.

"Thanks...yes it is?" she said slowly.

Katie blinked and fiddled briefly with a plain silver band on her right ring finger.

"Look...you're obviously wondering why I've turned up here..out of the blue. You and I were never close. But I _am_ sorry about Gina, uh...Emily said..."

The mention of Naomi's ex sent a bolt of pain so intense through her that she physically shuddered. Katie being here...in her house...had thrown her enough for her brain to block out the obvious implications. But hearing _that_ name, blasted that thin veneer away. Again she closed her eyes. Her heart felt like it might beat its way clear out of her chest.

Suddenly, shockingly, she felt a smooth warm hand cover hers, as it rested on her knee. It took every ounce of willpower she owned not to jerk it away. Physical contact was _not_ something she'd ever envisaged when she let Katie in. To her knowledge, she had never so much as shaken hands with Katie before...if you forget the roundhouse slap at the Love Ball that is.

She gasped aloud though, and the hand was instantly withdrawn.

"Naomi...I know this must be an utterly horrible time" Katie continued quickly, aware that her faux pas, mentioning her sister, had shattered the fragile peace. "...and I don't want for a moment to make it any worse. I was gonna say that Emily always told me that Gina was kind, thoughtful and a truly lovely person. I don't have any reason to doubt that..." her eyes twinkled and she went on "...although how she ended up producing a miserable fuck like you is a _total_ mystery to me?"

For a second, it felt like someone had sucked all the air out of the room. Naomi's eyes went wide. Then the corners of her mouth twitched...and did it again. Katie kept her face deadpan. It was almost too much.

"Bitch" Naomi said without malice. Katies face relaxed and they shared the first genuine smile either had felt like since the door opened.

Naomi was more comfortable with this. The faux bitchiness both wore as protection was a lot more comfortable than all the ritual platitudes and politeness.

"So..." Naomi said. Because she knew inside that Katie was never going to be the type of person to just pitch up and offer ritual condolences. There was going to be another agenda. Her heart started to thump as Katie looked away for a second.

"You aren't the only one who's lost, Naomi" she said eventually.

Naomi wasn't quite sure how to answer that one. Her first instinct was to snipe. So she did.

"Oh sorry Katie...have you lost _your_ mum too?" she asked acidly.

Katie glared. The truce was definitely over.

"Fuck off Naomi. That's not what I meant and you know it. OK, cards on the table...I meant what I said about your mum. Its shit and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. But I could have just sent you a fucking '_thinking about you_ ' card from Moonpig dot com and got on with my life?"

Naomi blinked but kept quiet.

"Emily is in bits about this. OK, I know its _your_ mum...no one can ever know how painful it is for you. But Gina was like a second mum to Ems...when you...when you left Bristol for uni...they used to talk a lot...about things, you know?"

Naomi's mouth gaped. She hadn't known her mum had carried on talking to Emily after...after she fucked it all up. But then she supposed it made perfect sense. Gina always considered Emily a surrogate daughter when they were together. They got on almost better that she did with her own daughter.

Instead of answering, head spinning with this new information, she just nodded slowly.

"Ems wants...wants to pay her respects...go to the funeral? Now you can be a cunt about it if you like...tell her to fuck off. But I'm asking you to at least give her that. OK, I get that it will be painful for you to see her. I don't think she's exactly delirious about it (Naomi's stomach plummeted at the thought that Emily was uncomfortable seeing her). ...so...what do you say? Can she go?"

Every instinct Naomi possessed screamed at her to say no. Her mind was still spinning at her mothers death and the sudden appearance of the toxic twin. Now something almost as scary as the funeral itself was being asked of her.

Emily...Emily in close proximity. Emily crying. Up till now, Naomi knew _she_ was the only reason Emily cried. She'd spent enough time bringing her to that point. Guilt and sadness coursed through her.

She made the decision without thinking. Thinking would only terrify her even more.

"Yes...yes she can come...to the funeral" she said in a monotone "...I guess I owe her that much?"

Katie smiled again. A warm smile. A genuine smile. Mission accomplished.

When the door closed behind her, Naomi slumped onto the hall floor and cried for long minutes. She'd thought she was all cried out, but apparently not.

XXX

**Just a short teaser..the full chapter coming up next will bring Naomily together again for the first time since the rooftop. But of course...nothing ever goes to plan, does it?**


	5. Chapter 5

**The funeral then…**

**Thanks to my reviewers. You really make a difference!**

Naomi stood in the silent lounge, staring at what felt like acres of flowers, which had started appearing from yesterday morning. Bunches and wreathes of them. Despite her request to keep it to a minimum, they just kept on coming. Inside her aching head was a weird blend of sadness and a sort of howling wilderness. She'd dressed like an automaton this morning, in the clothes Kieran of all people, had laid out on her bed for her to wear. A black, mid length skirt, simple dark grey button up shirt and a navy Melton overcoat which she'd never have bought for herself, but someone in her mothers circle of odd friends had arrived with last night. She dimly realised that people were making decisions on her behalf ever since she arrived, but none of it seemed to matter.

She gazed out of the front window towards the road. Too early for the cars yet…

Kieran came into the room, wearing for once in his life, a relatively smart dark grey suit and black tie, wonkily tied. It looked wildly wrong. Where was that scruffy, careworn reluctant tutor? He looked almost respectable. Her mum would have...she shut that thought off brutally, even as the Irishman smiled wanly at her. They were both fish out of water. Wearing formal clothing, and waiting for an event they both desperately wanted to avoid.

_Mums dead._

The words chilled her all over again. It seemed they had been echoing in her head for years.

She tried on a matching smile for size, but neither of them was sold. It was an act...a show of solidarity and formality she and her 'stepfather' didn't believe in or ascribe to. But today wasn't about them, was it? It was about laying to rest that crazy, disorganised, wilful..._wonderful_ woman who'd brought her up alone and, along the way, transformed Kieran too, into something approaching a regular citizen. It just wasn't right, Naomi thought for the thousandth time since she'd got the news. Gina should be in the kitchen right now...fussing over unnatural vegetable concoctions and worrying that there wasn't enough herbal tea to go round the guests.

But instead she was lying, cold and lifeless, in a simple wicker coffin, somewhere between the Co-Op funeral parlour and her house...making her last journey in a plain black hearse. Naomi felt the back of her throat tickle...it seemed there was an unending supply of tears still available. She coughed to disguise the sob which threatened to overwhelm her, but Kieran wasn't fooled.

He held out a small piece of silver paper with a couple of tablets enclosed in clear blisters on the surface.

"Here you go..." he said gruffly "...no fecking arguments today missy...take these...I've already had mine. They'll make it a little easier, believe me"

Naomi stared at the tablets.

"No...I don't need...want..." she started, voice husky from endless crying.

"You do...and so do I. Its just a couple of Diazepam...nothing too outrageous. Just something to take the edge off...come on...I'm sure that fancy Uni is as awash with illegal drugs as Roundview is? They'll just make the day go a bit smoother?"

Despite her reservations, Naomi took the foil from him and popped the small tablets onto her palm. Why not, she thought? Anything to get this horrible day over with. It had been like a grim shadow hanging over the past few days, always in the back of her mind. But now it was right here...and Kieran was offering her something to ease the grief...the pain.

Because what she felt...in her head, her guts, her soul...was pain. Dull, persistent and ever present.

_Mums dead_.

She lifted her hand to her mouth and swallowed them quickly, taking the glass of water Kieran offered and washing them down with a grimace. Despite his crack about Goldsmiths and uni in general, she hadn't seen too much drug taking these past months. For one, her heart was still aching for the girl she'd left behind and even when she decided to smother her anguish by shagging hopeful randoms, alcohol was her chosen poison.

Five minutes later, as they stood silently side by side staring out into the street, the cars began to arrive. First the dark hearse. Naomi swayed as the long car slid to a halt outside. She could see the plain wicker coffin in the back, brightly coloured flowers surrounding it. Her fingernails gripped her palms until they sang with pain.

Kieran slid his hand over hers and squeezed gently, forcing her to relax a little.

"Come on missy...hold on to me. We'll get through this...together, right?"

She nodded blankly at him. Would they? Does anyone really get _through_ this?

The journey to the crematorium was mercifully short. Naomi sat in the matching black car behind the hearse, staring numbly out of the window as familiar sights of Bristol passed by. By the time the car pulled up in a horseshoe shaped gravel drive in front of the crematorium, the benzo's had kicked in. Briefly, she felt a twinge of anger at herself and Kieran for needing the numbing effect of the drugs. But then she rationalised it. Without the floaty detachment it gave, she wasn't sure she could endure what was to follow.

It wasn't until she was already in the bright, modernist chapel, guided to the front by an unctuous black suited flunky, that her brain reminded her of who else was on the 'guest list''. Instantly she felt her head turning of its own accord. There were a few people already inside, friends of her mothers, neighbours, rubber neckers she didn't even recognise. For a second she felt a twinge of mixed disappointment and relief that there was no sign of a pair of beautiful twins. Maybe it was too much for Emily to bear after all?

She started to turn back, but as she did, a flash of chestnut caught her eye right by the double doors. She stared transfixed, as a grim faced, black suited Katie swept in...holding tightly onto a similarly dressed and softly crying Emily.

_Emily_….

Their eyes met across the room...much as they always had... and Naomi swayed as she had earlier. Emily looked...so sad...so fucking _beautiful_. Even with the signs of obvious grief etched onto her small face. Naomi smiled briefly. Emily always had that effect on her…

But then the sound of the ushers moving into the doorway distracted her from her ex. Soft music began to play...fucking Van Morrison, Naomi thought bitterly, before realising that Kieran's shoulders were shaking as he stood next to her.

"_Have I told you lately that I love you?_", the Belfast singer sang in that unmistakeable gravelly voice.

She forgot her own agony long enough to grasp his hand and give him a reassuring smile. One of her mums favourite songs...and equally obviously, adopted by the couple as 'their' song. She could see Kieran fighting to keep his composure….strangely, it helped her keep her own.

Mercifully, the service was proving as short and fuss free as her mother would have wanted. A few words from the official at the lectern, another piece of music, this time something classical that Naomi couldn't name, then the man waved at someone behind her to come forward. Naomi steeled herself to endure some unctious platitudes from one of her mums odd friends, but there was a surprised murmur before she saw someone..actually _two_ someone's, draw level with the front chairs. Her head turned to see and, even with the drugs numbing effect she still started with surprise. Katie stood there with a silently weeping Emily...looking straight at her. A million random thoughts flashed through her benzo addled brain as they stood there staring at each other. The words "_What the f_….?" formed in her mouth, but she found she couldn't force them out. Then Katie spoke softly

"Naomi?...Emily uh wanted...she wanted to say something for Gina...but she's in pieces...would you mind if I did it for her...she _really_ wanted to..."

People were whispering behind them as the small audience realised something was happening. Naomi's ears burned and she had to suppress the urge to turn round and flash them a Campbell special. Instead she just nodded.

What happened next threw her even more. Katie nodded back, and without saying another word, pushed the younger twin towards Naomi. Kieran reached across and pulled Emily gently by the arm, so that she ended up between him and Naomi.

Emily's pale, tear stained face looked up at her. It was almost too much to bear for the blonde. Without thinking, because she knew if she paused to try to make sense of what had just happened she would break down completely, she took the smaller girls hand in hers, squeezed it hard, then turned back towards the front.

Katie coughed once, then put on a fashionable pair of dark rimmed glasses. Naomi frowned...since when did Katie wear…?

"Uh...right. Well..." Katie started uncertainly. People shifted in their seats and muttered quietly. Naomi gripped Emilys hand a little harder and got an answeruing squeeze back.

"I didn't know Gina that well...and so it really should be my sister giving this..._eulogy_…?" Katie stared down at the piece of paper in her hand, obviously unsure of the words pronunciation.

"...but Emily's suffering...not as much as Naomi or Kieran… but suffering anyway. So you'll have to put up with me?"

She coughed gently and pressed a small white handkerchief to her mouth before continuing.

"Gina was the worlds most wonderful friend. She was warm, kind and understanding. I had...um this is Emily's words...so bear with me? Anyway...I had the privilege of knowing her for the last couple of years. She absolutely adored her daughter...so much so that she put up with all the crazy things Naomi did with a smile and a cup of camomile tea"

Katie flashed an apologetic smile towards Naomi "…. her kitchen was a place of safety and comfort for dozens of lonely souls who recognised like me, that she had a heart big enough for us all. Nothing was too much trouble, no problem too big to ignore. She had time for us all. When Naomi and I were together, she treated me like her own daughter. Without her, I might have broken more than once...and when...when Naomi and I spit up...she was there for me all over again. Tea and sympathy is one thing but Gina could be blunt when it was needed. I relied on her smiles and advice and ever open door for a long, long time after...afterwards"

Katie paused and looked at Naomi and Emily sitting there. She put down the paper and Emily's hand tensed in the blondes.

"...she said time was the only thing Naomi and I needed. Time to grow, time to recover, and time to realise that some things are just meant to be as long as you're patient. She never lost her hope in us… But now...now we've lost _her_. Time was something that ran out for our dearest Gina. All I can promise you is that we'll always remember you with enormous love and affection"

Katie glanced towards the coffin.

"...goodbye and God bless Gina" she finished quietly

The proverbial pin would have shattered the absolute silence that followed. Naomi's head was churning with emotions. Her grip of Emilys hand loosened slightly but the twin gripped hers hard again.

"I meant every word Naoms" she whispered huskily.

XXX

**More soon...if you're interested?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6...is anyone actually reading? I hope so!**

Emily

She woke with a start, almost sitting straight up, but something heavy was preventing her from moving. Her mouth felt bone dry and tasted of something stale. Her brow wrinkled at the insistent thumping which started immediately in her head. Slowly, despite this competition to overwhelm her, some senses returned and Emily stared up at the ceiling, waiting for motor function to return. It took several seconds before her brain recognised what she was looking at up there.

_Not_ her ceiling then.

Not the familiar room she'd shared with Katie until she was 17...or the one in the new, smaller parental house she occasionally went to when she was home at weekends. Nor, actually, the one in the student bedsit room she had in Bath. The one she'd almost completely abandoned, because she spent most of her leisure time back in the familiar, if unsettling surroundings of Bristol city centre.

No...this was..._fuck_, she whispered to herself. _That_ ceiling.

The one she'd stared up at many times in the past. Sometimes like this, with a hangover crouching, ready to strike, sometimes in blissful ecstasy with a very significant other making her moan and cry out in joy. The one with the centre light fitting with an old and tasselled pink shade. The ceiling with a small crack in the plaster near the window bay, there for years, since Naomi had irritably thrown one of Emily's discarded green shoes at a persistent wasp, buzzing at the glass ineffectively, while they lay drowsily, sated and exhausted from a whole afternoons love making….

Fuck..._Naomi_?

The events of yesterday burst into her head like an approaching express train coming out of a dark tunnel. The funeral.. not being able to read the eulogy she had painstakingly written out longhand at home, while Katie had paced the room, reminding her every thirty seconds that they were gonna be fucking _late_.

Arriving late anyway, like extras from Four Weddings, barely making it before the poker faced ushers slowly paced in with the simple coffin on their shoulders. A small coffin...it was strange, Gina had always seemed larger than life, but her final resting place, before the flames consumed her, looked almost child sized.

Then spotting Naomi in the front row on the right, standing next to a strangely formal Kieran. When she turned and their eyes met, it felt just like the first time, all over again. Those luminous, ice blue eyes, staring straight back at her. For a second, Emily had frozen on the spot. It was like a whole 50,000 word script was being conveyed between them. Everyone and everything, including her sister and the plain wicker coffin being carried up the aisle, faded into the background. It was probably less than 3 seconds, but it felt like a whole lifetime.

"She's so fucking _beautiful_" Emily thought randomly, then mentally kicked herself for being so crass. Not that she _wasn't_ beautiful...she always had been, even in the '_wear anything at all, so long as it doesn't match_' days at college. But as reality seeped into Emily's overheated brain, this was hardly the time and place to casually lust after your ex, was it?

Not that anything to do with Naomi Campbell was ever casual.

But that was as good as it got for a while. Naomi turned back to the front as the coffin was placed on a bier and the official began the humanist service. Emily tuned him out, Katie keeping her more or less upright as she silently wept for the other Campbell woman she had loved and lost.

There were a couple of segments of music...one she vaguely recognised, the other a mystery, something classical anyhow. Then for some unaccountable reason, Katie was tugging her forward, down the aisle, towards the plain bier where the coffin lay...towards the girl who had broken her heart so badly, she still believed it might never be whole again. Emily started to protest...why was she..?

Then the folded piece of paper in her coat pocket bumped against her fingers. Oh...she thought...oh yeah, that.

But five steps further along, she stopped walking again. Katie hissed at her to _get with the_ _fucking program_, or something equally lame, mined from one of the horrible American day time shows her twin enjoyed way too much. But Emily literally dug her heels in. The carpet was thin, but her shoes refused to budge.

"I can't Kay...I really _can't_. I thought I could but..." she stared miserably at the back of Naomi's head, willing her not to turn round. One more look into those deep eyes and she would lose all motor function.

For once in her life, Katie showed some actual empathy. Instead of trying to pull her along, she sighed and gestured to Emilys hand, in the pocket of her overcoat.

"Give me the fucking note. People are looking, Ems..._someone_ has to do something now?"

Dumbly, Emily held out the creased white paper. But Katie wasn't done with taking charge...predictably. Grabbing the eulogy from her in her left hand, she pulled Emily forward with the other until they were level with Naomi and Kieran. Emily's heart pounded in her chest as Naomi turned towards them with a questioning look. Emily heard Katie say something to her ex in a low voice, while people whispered around them, but it was only when she was propelled forward again, into the row, that she really felt lost. Kieran, bless him, reached across and pulled the unresisting twin so that she was standing between him and Naomi.

Shockingly, she felt Naomi's cool hand take hold of hers. Her skin was chilled and clammy. But then, so was Emily's. Without thinking, Emily squeezed back. And Naomi squeezed again. Emily's heart continued to pound as she looked up at Naomi's face, gratitude written all over her own. Kieran put his arm round her and gently hugged too. In the midst of all this grief and melancholy, it was enough to make her feel a tiny bit better.

But it was after the mercifully brief service that things got even weirder. She didn't get the chance to have any sort of meaningful conversation with Naomi, other than the usual dumb platitudes, but she noticed, as they pulled up to the yellow fronted house...something else that made her heart lurch...that Naomi had got out of the car in front, clutching the piece of paper Katie had read from. She'd kept it.

Emily had no real idea why they'd even travelled back with the cortège. Her original plan had been to make an appearance, say a few genuinely warm words about Gina and then fade into the background waiting for an opportune moment to slip away. The pain in her heart over Gina's death was only ever magnified by the presence of her beautiful ex.

But it didn't work out that way. It wasn't as if she intended the words she'd written to mean more than they did. It wasn't a direct plea to get back with Naomi. They'd moved on hadn't they?...both of them. Different Uni's, different cities. They weren't the gauche schoolgirls they had been, were they? First love is overwhelming, but the facts were still the same. Naomi had cheated...and she couldn't bring herself to forgive her. End of…

Or so she thought.

An hour later, confidence boosted by a succession of overgenerous neat whiskeys (Kieran had waxed on way too much about the spelling difference between the Scotch stuff and the family sized bottle of Irish Jameson's he was filling everyone's glasses with), Emily didn't even notice that her sister had somehow left her alone there. If she'd been sober she might have detected a plan somewhere there...but she wasn't, so when she found herself in a corner of the kitchen, wedged up against Naomi as Gina's daughter fielded an endless succession of mourners anxious to offer yet more trite comments or anecdotes about her mum.

And she definitely wouldn't have agreed to '_can we_ _get the fuck out of here?_" that Naomi'd whispered in her ear as a lucky gap in the crowd presented itself.

'_Out of here_' turned out to be the very bedroom she had just woken up in. Going in, she'd told herself fiercely that it was just for a short while...just long enough to allow Naomi a few moments relief from the well meaning crowd of losers downstairs. A last look around a room which had given her intense pleasure and just as intense pain.

A few minutes that turned into an hour...then another one.

They ended up sitting, side by side, against the head rail, on the bed Emily thought she'd never see again, let alone sit on. The bed that had been their sanctuary through that heavenly, then hellish summer.

But while Emily was trying to keep some sort of grip on her feelings, trying too to limit the amount of neat vodka, Naomi kept pouring from the bottle into a tooth mug. (They hadn't dared go back downstairs...which made Naomi tearful all over again about leaving Kieran to deal with the mourners, but not enough to actually relieve him), it wasn't a very successful rearguard action. Torn between just being there for her ex, in her worst moments and the inevitable tug that this house, and bedroom had on her mind...Emily cuddled a weeping Naomi to her, listened to her misery and drank dutifully...just to keep her company.

She should have realised it was dangerous, mortally so. But vodka and pity are seductive playmates. They reminisced...they talked about old friends and Gina...they talked about everything but the fact that two estranged lovers were sitting on a bed which had seen the consummation of their teenage romance on many occasions...and

...and they fell asleep. Emily didn't know when, but the house was quiet downstairs, it was dark outside and Katie had found some way of slipping away, leaving them to it. If she had been sober… if she'd been more aware of just how dangerous this was. Emily would have made an excuse and left.

But waking up this morning with a champion hangover and Naomi's arm across her chest...the folly was all too evident. The only saving grace was that they were both still fully clothed. They hadn't actually _done_ anything.

Even while she was thinking that, the echo of her awkward morning conversation with a certain 'friend' called Mandy came to her. No...even on that occasion, nothing _had_ actually 'happened'. But Mandy's words about Emily wanting too but just being too pissed to go through with it, were way too close to this morning's events.

Carefully, Emily peeled Naomi's arm from over her. The blonde grumbled a bit, but was still right out of it. Small mercies, Emily thought grimly.

She inched her way off the bed, swaying as she tried unsuccessfully to stand up. Her head swam for a moment and her stomach gave definite signals about ejecting the neat spirit she had swallowed last night. But luckily, her Fitch constitution and a high capacity for alcohol saved her. Within a few seconds, she was able to stand and scour the bedroom floor for her shoes. Another bit of deja vu stabbed at her. But no standing at cold bus stops with Thomas for a saviour was going to help this morning. Dully, she slipped her black flats on and stood for a moment, looking down at the sleeping Naomi.

Still _way_ too beautiful, she thought almost bitterly. Beautiful enough to hypnotise her all over again. She shook her head, hissing as the movement made her hangover thump harder. _Not_ this time, she muttered to herself.

Looking around the room, she saw a small yellow pad on the dresser, together with a few coloured pencils. Knowing that what she was about to do was a perversion of what she'd done almost a year ago...nevertheless, she carefully scribbled on a page, tearing it off quietly and placing it gently on the pillow she had slept on last night. Then, silently she slipped out of the room, tiptoed downstairs and let herself out of the silent house. Gritting her teeth she told herself that this was for the best. It was just the sadness of the funeral, the alcohol, the proximity of a girl who had loved her fiercely but not quite enough to stop her cheating...this _was_ the right thing to do..

An hour later a hungover and groggy Naomi opened her eyes The first thing she saw was the small yellow note. She almost smiled. Until she read it.

In Emily's absurdly childish script, there was just one word.

'_Sorry_'

XXX

**More soon...and please stick with it if you can, it _WILL_ get better?**


	7. Chapter 7

**There are no words...except maybe these words. **

**You might want to re read the first 6 chapters. God knows, I had to… **

"Sorry?"

The word spat out of Naomi's mouth like a bullet...a nasty, metallic tasting bullet.

"What the fuck does that even mean?" she followed up with. Her hangover, ferocious and as unforgiving as a Utah preacher, started to remind her that loud exclamations and sudden movements were not on the agenda this side of a plateful of fried heart attack food and several high strength painkillers.

The breakfast would have to wait. though...she knew by the ominous griping in her belly and the ever so slightly dizzy feeling when her head moved more than a millimetre at a time, that eating anything yet would be counterproductive and possibly vomit threatening.

Gradually, and within infinite care, she hauled herself up on her elbows until she could collapse back onto the propped up pillows. The unwelcome sudden movement brought a familiar and unsettling scent to her nose.

_Emily_.

Her heart lurched even as she viciously suppressed the urge to wallow in it, grab the pillow and hug it until the aroma washed over her. But the little yellow post it note glared at her from the duvet like a rebuke. Instant flashback. Another note. Another time.

'_Emily slept here_'

"Fuuuck" she moaned self pityingly, as the cigarettes and alcohol of yesterday took their sullen revenge. It was all too much. This room, changed maybe, but as familiar to her as her own reflection. The rumpled pillow and bed sheet beside her.

Well, Emily had certainly slept here again.

But this time, it wasn't Naomi who'd crept from the bed at dawn like an adulterer, grabbing her clothes and sneaking away. This time it was Emily.

Thoughts of yesterday gradually permeated the fog her head was full of. The funeral...the appearance of the Fitch twins, Emily right there next to her...the speech, fuck, the speech.

A surge of overwhelming sadness made her breath catch in her throat. '_Mums dead'_ was rapidly becoming an hourly mantra. But now it was joined by '_Emily was here...but not for long' _

"Fuck" she said again with feeling, looking up at the ceiling and allowing herself a moments more self pity. Life was pretty much shit...

It had been a very, very bad move to bring her past life into this house, colliding with the black reality of losing her mum. But once again, the mere proximity of Emily Fitch had reduced her reasoning power to that of a cheap calculator. That famed Campbell brain went right back to playschool levels, faced with those deadly brown eyes and the sheer delight of having the twins hand in hers. OK, she'd been caught out at the very worst time, bereaved, lost, her mind a howling void of bleak emotions. But damn...why had she just mutely accepted Emily's presence, her pity?

Because surely that was all it was? Pity. Emily had a heart as big as a house. Naomi knew that all along. Ever cheerful, ever hopeful, ever constant.

"Until you fucked it all up by sleeping with some poor girl who's fragile mental state topped up with strong MDMA threw her off a club balcony?" she whispered to herself numbly. Another, regular dose of self loathing mixed queasily with the self pity. Suddenly the fried breakfast didn't seem like any sort of solution to her woes.

It wasn't often, at least these days, that she let images of the recent past consume her. Too painful by half. The gap, the wound in her life Emily had torn open was still jagged, still bleeding.

But in this post funeral, hungover, vulnerable state, she allowed her mind to wander weakly.

No matter how hard it had been, enduring Emily's contempt at her betrayal, her frozen indifference over the weeks following Sophia's suicide, no matter how viciously Naomi was hurt by her lovers revenge, she never stopped loving the twin, or blaming herself for Emily losing her love for her. Self loathing had consumed her then and it did so again now.

She sighed in resignation. Gina was still dead and Emily hadn't stayed. They were facts, not conjecture. Today had to be faced.

Losing her shit over Emily's one word post it wasn't fair anyway. Why should the prettier Fitch girl offer any more? She'd gone above and beyond already. Coming to the funeral must have cost her plenty. Naomi knew Emily had worshipped Gina. She'd lost count of the number of times Emily had wished the dizzy blonde was her mum when they'd been together. Every time Naomi had shushed her with a grimace.

"Fucks sake Ems...you have a mum…? I know she's a registered sociopath and hates me more than Harold Shipman did his patients, but still…my mums a lentil boiling flake...honestly?"

Which always made Emily giggle. No matter how many times the tired joke was made.

But Gina had loved the little redhead back...in spades. Hugging hadn't really been a big feature of the Campbell household, at least after Naomi hit puberty. But the Fitches were serial huggers. Apparently, Emily's dad was hugger in chief and his daughters (well, at least one of them...Naomi shuddered at the very idea of a Katie shaped sisterly squeeze) had inherited the trait. So, after Gina had exuberantly surrounded Emily with her arms the first time she'd been introduced, it was pretty much compulsory every time they crossed paths. It was a mutual love in that lasted from the off to the day Emily had packed her bags and left Naomi in a sea of broken furniture, emptied drawers and the lingering echo of recent Police activity. Cook was AWOL, at least then, and all that was left for Naomi to do was to clean the place, pack the few remaining Emily sized items by the bed and cry like a fool for several days. Katie had come for the clothes 24 hours later, surprisingly without her usual glee at anything which offended the blonde, had then briskly informed her that the love of her life wasn't coming back...ever.

But Emily had been back to the house apparently. With Naomi away at Goldsmiths, it seemed her ex and Gina had kept up a dialogue. What sort of dialogue Naomi didn't know, but it was unsettling to realise the world hadn't stopped for everyone that miserable day.

Naomi risked a fumble in the bedside cabinet drawer. She granted herself a weak smile as her scrabbling hand discovered a silver foil pop strip of painkillers. She thanked herself for forgetting to take them to London. A swig of tepid water from the half empty bottle on the cabinet and they went down, hopefully to work their magic...quickly.

Ten minutes later, the blonde slowly and carefully raised herself enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Time to face the bleak new reality. An Emily and Gina Campbell free world...

Kieran was pottering about in the kitchen when Naomi finally felt able to face the public again. She'd showered for 15 minutes, letting the hot water pound her head until the tablets she'd taken began to work. Towelling briskly, she scooted along the landing in case anyone else had decided to set up camp in Chez Campbell for the night, but the upper floor was silent and empty. Her only wobble was when she spotted a damp hand flannel over the bath lip. The faint scent of Emily was unmistakeable on it...and she couldn't stop herself picking it up and holding it over her face for a second. But the way it made her heart thump painfully was unbearable. Quickly, she rinsed it in hot soapy water, obliterating the trace. But once in the shower, with the water beating on her head and the room to herself, she allowed the tears to come again. Suddenly it was all as raw as it had been the day Emily left for good.

Out of the bathroom, she dressed quickly, not caring what she put on. A pair of black jogging bottoms, a set of unmatched underwear and a sweatshirt with Greenpeace across the sickly pastel front. She couldn't remember even buying it, let alone wanting to keep it, but it was the only vaguely comfortable top she could be bothered to look for.

The thumping head had receded enough to allow normal bodily motor functions, so after slipping on some tatty canvas deck shoes, she walked down stairs, hoping against hope that Kieran had rid the place of any stray mourners. After yesterday's shit show, she wasn't sure she could even spare a single sentence of polite conversation.

Luckily it was just the scruffy Irishman with permanently sad eyes who greeted her with a monosyllabic grunt. Like Naomi, Kieran functioned on autopilot first thing, so she was grateful for not having to wish a cheery good morning to...

Fuck, she thought, for the five hundredth time..._Mums dead._

It was hard to force back the quiet sob which burst up from her throat, but she managed it...just. It was obvious Kieran had noticed, but he had the good grace to mumble something about breakfast, then clatter plates and cutlery until she'd regained control. After thick slices of farmhouse toast and marmalade were plonked in front of her, next to a steaming cup of percolated coffee, he sat down heavily opposite her in his preferred battle scarred wooden chair, sipped his own dark brew and started to talk.

She regarded him stonily as he did his usual tour around the subject before actually trying to make sense. It was obvious from his even more unshaven, jowly appearance that he'd had as bad a night as her, maybe worse. He didn't have a kind and attentive Fitch holding his hand and curling up next to him either. She bit into the toast, even though it tasted like cardboard to her alcohol scoured tongue. He'd get to the point eventually.

"Right missy...it's ah, um...well, I suppose we should...I mean, she'd want us to...uh"

Naomi decided to put him out of his misery. Kieran didn't really do direct.

"Look Kieran" she said as kindly as she could after his third attempt "...I know...it's proper fucked, all of it. Mums gone and it's up to us to sort things out. I'm gonna ring Goldsmiths this morning, tell them I need a while to get things sorted. I've never really thought about what we'd do if...?"

Her voice dried up. Gina had been a constant in her life since birth. How the hell does a daughter plan for life without the one person who never once let her down? She felt fresh tears well up in her red rimmed eyes and fiercely rubbed them dry. Enough tears.

He put his big hand over hers and for once she didn't shrug him off. Life was a bit short of humanity at the moment, Fitches excepted, so she accepted the gesture without protest.

"Aye missy...she certainly would. Probably tear me a new one for moping about. But..." his eyes met hers and even in her hollowed out state, her mind registered the utter misery in his. She might be the only surviving heir, Gina's daughter, but the soppy old bugger had loved her mum just as fiercely as she had. She squeezed back as his fingers laced hers. For better or worse, they were in this together.

Gradually, over the next hour, as toast went unbeaten and coffee undrunk, they tentatively sketched out existence in the new post Gina Campbell world they were now living in.

XXX

Across town, in a house thirty years newer, the Fitch clan sat round a slightly larger table. Unlike Naomi's kitchen, this meeting was more warlike than peaceful. At each end of the table, the elder Fitches sat. Jenna by the door, Rob by the sink. Emily and Katie were on one side, James the other. Breakfast in the Fitch house being the one meal in the day vaguely eatable, normally the twins and James would stuff themselves with cereal, toast and anything else available. With lunch normally eaten out and dinner an unending horror story of tortured vegetables and weird soups, it was a lesson hard learned from the time they were toddlers.

But today, hard looks were on the menu.

Emily had crept in at 5...hoping to avoid the Jenna Fitch Stasi patrol, but her mother wasn't going to be put off having her say. Although Emily was away at uni and nominally an adult, the merest mention of the name Naomi Campbell was still like a fire alarm going off. She'd grudgingly accepted Emily's insistence that she attend the funeral of 'that girls' mother. She wasn't that hard hearted, was she? But no one had said anything about Emily staying over. Katie had assured Jenna that they would attend the service only, pay their respects, then be home for dinner.

When Katie had arrived back at the Fitch residence early evening, smelling strongly of alcohol and waving away questions about the whereabouts of her easily influenced sister, Jenna had gone ballistic. It took a surprisingly insistent Rob to prevent her...at one point physically...putting on a coat and marching round to collect her youngest twin.

But when Emily showed up at dawn, looking like she'd been dragged through a hedge backwards, every alarm bell in Mrs Fitches armoury went off at once.

"Where have you been all night, Emily?" was her opening line. Jenna knew very well, but like a detective starting off an interrogation, she liked to set the tone from the beginning.

"I stayed over at Naomi's" Emily said defensively "...she was..."

"She was _what_ Emily...surely the rest of her family was there to support her...?"

Emily shrugged, a gesture she knew her mother hated...almost as much as she hated Naomi Campbell.

"So what...I can comfort a friend, can't I? Anyway, for your information she only has Kieran if you call him family...and by the looks of him, he's struggling just as much as Naomi"

Jenna fixed Emily with hard eyes. She'd thought these sort of stand offs were a thing of the past. The Campbell girl had corrupted, then cheated on her daughter...predictably breaking her heart...and Emily had done the sensible thing for once, walking out on the other girl for good. Now she was at a different university, miles away from Naomi...getting on with her life. She blanked out the occasional rumour about Emily's 'activities' with other people (girls)...it was to be expected. Students were always going to experiment. But Naomi Campbell had posed a much bigger threat. Emily had been silly enough to think they were in love, or something juvenile like that. That had very much to be nipped in the bud. Jenna had big plans for her twins. Two nice young men, with good careers, a double wedding even...

"That's really not your concern any more though, is it Emily? I mean, she broke your heart back at college. You've moved on...new university, new friends, new life. Katie was telling me you have a new young man in your life too...Gary... wasn't it Katie?"

Katie did a perfect impression of a rabbit coming across a snake, a piece of toast halfway to her open mouth. Fuck, she thought as her sister fixed her with a cold stare...she'd made the guy up after Emily had been brought home in a taxi completely wasted after some mid term party...'Gary' had in fact been a rather butch lesbian who'd at least dropped a semi conscious Emily home after presumably having her way with her in some scruffy alley. Katie, thinking on the fly, had duped her mother into believing 'Gary' was in fact Emily's new love interest, given the cab was hard to see into at a distance and the woman's short hair easy to mistake for a guys. It was the only way her mother could be persuaded to overlook the unbuttoned top, smeared lipstick and vomit stained shoes. But now the fictitious Gary was being quoted back at her. She thought quickly as her twin and mother waited for her answer.

"No mum...Gary turned out to be a bit of a mong, not up to Fitch standards at all. Emily kicked him into touch weeks ago?"

She returned Emily's quizzical look with one of her own. The Katie Fitch 'wtf bitch?' one which had served her well enough for over 18 years. Emily just blinked and went back to staring at her mother.

"Forget Gary mum...Katie's right, not my type at all..." she could see Katie out of the corner of her eye, trying to stifle a choked laugh. Never a truer word spoken. Too many Cobra's, a toot of strong coke and a frantic fumble in an alleyway with someone who had way too many tattoos and mens aftershave wasn't something she remembered with any pleasure. It was right in the middle of her '_fuck anything_ _without a dick_' phase, and she shuddered internally at how low her standards had slipped. In truth, a couple of hours platonic cuddling with a weeping Naomi held more passion than any three stand up knee tremble fucks in alleys with easily interchangeable girls. She gritted her teeth. This wasn't an argument she needed right now. Her mind was still reeling from how easily she'd slipped backwards, cuddling on a way too familiar bed with her ex. But right now she needed to deal with the Jenna Kraken...again.

"Mum...I'm not arguing with you about this. Naomi isn't my girlfriend anymore, probably got one of her own by now?" The wince she let slip narrowed Katie's eyes, but her mother was a little too blunt to catch the nuance "...but she was someone important to me once...and she needed a friend. That's it, no funny business, Jesus, she'd just cremated her mum, even you must admit it's hardly likely she wanted a leg over at the wake?"

This time, the snort from Katie wasn't stifled, but Jenna seemed mollified...a little.

"No need for that sort of language Emily, but...well, I suppose you were just helping her with the grief...I'm not completely made of stone...am I Rob?"

Emily's father had tuned out the argument. With the female/male ratio 3 to 2 in the house, he rarely got involved. No upside. But now he'd got to answer, his mind searched frantically for a suitably anodyne response. He loved his wife dearly, and his youngest twin just as much.

"Err, yeah...course not Jen...Emily was just being kind, weren't you Emsy?"

Emily gave her dad a fixed grin. He wasn't famous for backing her up, certainly not where her mother was involved, but she'd take that.

"Right..." Emily said firmly, problem dealt with "...if that's all, I'd like to crash for a few hours in my room? I'm supposed to be back for a lecture first thing tomorrow...I'd better do some reading before morning?"

That was a flat out lie. But only Katie knew it and after the Gary fuck up, she owed her. The rest of the table was silent as Emily got up, snatched the last piece of buttered toast from James's hand and left the room, ignoring his yell of protest.

Normal service resumed at Chez Fitch.

Closing the bedroom door behind her, Emily rested her back on it and sighed heavily. She might have convinced her parents things were nice and 'post relationship' with Naomi, but now, with only her own thoughts to deal with, the events of yesterday rushed back in.

Seeing Naomi's head bowed in the front row...the moment their eyes met and locked. Standing next to her, fingers entwined with hers...drinking neat vodka with her ex in the bedroom which had echoed to their sighs and cries over and over again that long summer. The furniture might have been in different places, but it had been like putting on a familiar sweater, warm, comfortable and...well, far too comfortable. Even with Naomi in pieces, crying, clinging to her as she'd never done before, there was still a flame there. She knew it was dangerous, everything sensible in her head told her to run...but it wasn't until after 4am, with Naomi cried out, sleeping soundly next to her, that Emily got the courage to disentangle their limbs and creep away. Writing that one word note on a pad of yellow paper was so poignant, she almost lost it. The first time she'd left a note for the blonde, it had been in a time of genuine hope. Gina was alive, they were classmates and getting closer...and everything seemed to be possible. Despite the hot and cold tactics Naomi used, Emily wasn't fooled then. Not really. She knew it was all front, bluff. Naomi's eyes were the tell tale indicators Emily watched closely. She might have been repeatedly saying no...but her eyes never did.

Right up until the time Emily found the Uni prospectus with the two girls inside front cover. Right up till rooftops and secret boxes and graphic notebooks with betrayal as the subject.

She hugged herself tightly as more memories flooded back. None of them pleasant.

No...she told herself...for once her mother was right. Naomi was the past. Best it stayed that way. Tomorrow she'd take the train back to uni, put yesterday down to a blip...and get on with her life...without Naomi.


	8. Chapter 8

**If there's still anyone reading, thank you for your time. If not, I'm yelling into a void. I apologise if the noise woke you up!**

Naomi

It'd been two weeks since the funeral. In that time Naomi had received a call from the Welfare office at Goldsmiths, offering her a months break from her studies until she'd decided she felt up to returning. She accepted the break, but decided to carry on studying at her old house. Kieran was now back at Roundview, as usual hanging on to his job by a thread. His 'unusual' teaching style was unchanged, but they were very short of qualified teachers, thanks to the obsession of English voters for continuing to elect penny pinching sociopaths, so he got away with it.

Naomi, being the dedicated student she'd always been, even through the worst days, used on line study modules, phone updates from tutors and spent a fair chunk of every day crouched over her notebooks and laptop to try to keep up with the testing Law syllabus. It gave her something to think about apart from the loss of Gina... and the post it note she couldn't find it in her heart to throw away. A bit like the other crumpled, faded post it still in her overflowing costume jewellery box. She wasn't quite so attached to oversized paste jewellery necklaces and fake gold chains nowadays, but nostalgia made her keep them anyway. Quite why she kept the post it notes, she wasn't so sure about.

She hadn't heard a word from Emily in the two weeks which had passed since the cremation. Several times (a day) she sat with her thumb over the 'send' button on her battered old Samsung with the cracked screen, about to fire off a text...of which there were any number of saved drafts...but none of them were ever dispatched. Quite what she wanted to convey to Emily, she had no clue. Thanks? A plea for friendship...a declaration of undying love? Well platonic friendship was definitely out...they'd never actually _been_ friends, even from the time at Pandora's party, when Emily, in an attempt to batter a chink in Naomi's fortress a bit, had framed her interest in the blonde as just classmates '_hanging_ _out for the next two years_'. It didn't work then...because within an hour, they were exchanging shy kisses over Naomi's clutched assortment of cheap booze...or later, when the drugs hit hard and the shy kisses evolved into out and out snogging on a bouncy castle. And it probably wouldn't work now either. She could never 'just' be Emily's friend... or just anything...other than her lover. It was way too late for them to become best mates.

So the texts went unsent...she wasn't even sure Emily still had the same number anyway...and she got no messages or calls from the twin, which depressed her more than she admitted to herself. Sadly, she slowly reconciled herself to the fact that her ex had properly moved on...gone back to Bath and her new life. The empty feeling inside her, a mixture of grief at her mothers death and the bittersweet encounter with Emily Fitch, solidified into a cold mass at her centre. Some of the old Naomi Campbell took over again. She'd never sought or had friends at middle school or college. Emily had been the single bright and intense exception...and look where that had left her? Heartache, misery and solitude.

Today she was trying to make a decision, which was something she'd avoided for days. Her month was half gone, as was Emily. Did she go back to Goldsmiths...restart her course...and the empty and passionless weekend shags with throwaway guys she hardly remembered 12 hours later...could she do that? Spend Sunday mornings regretting everything...and everyone she did on Saturday night...then rooting through the rubbish bin with a disgusted look, for any discarded condoms... Her heart sank at the prospect.

The sit down talk with Kieran hadn't got them very far either. It was still too raw. The house technically belonged to her now. Gina hadn't updated her will since Naomi was born. But there was no way she could ever see the sad, lost Irishman out of his home. Gina had loved him well enough and although wild horses would never get Naomi to admit it, she kind of loved him too now. No...the house would stay 'theirs' for the foreseeable future. What little insurance money and savings her mum had were largely eaten up by funeral costs and day to day living expenses. Kieran would need to carry on working and Naomi's student grant had no room for wriggle either.

But strangely, considering the deep yearning to escape Bristol she'd always nurtured, now she'd spent a while in London, the magic of the big city had worn off. She started thinking seriously about moving back. Her grades so far would make it relatively easy to transfer to Bristol...but then...there was the prospect of bumping into..._her_. Bath was only a short train ride away after all...and the Fitch clan still lived in that buttoned up little semi with a cat flap...?

But then, if she was being truthful, that was the whole point, wasn't it? Emily being closer. Even though admitting it was difficult, it was the truth...and she needed to start telling herself the truth again. If Emily had moved on, not just physically, but emotionally too...then she might as well do too. The distance between London and Bristol was all about mileage, but it was gradually dawning on Naomi that if the emptiness in her heart was ever going to be healed, running away again wasn't helping. She'd tried it and it was just as bitter as she feared.

Sighing again...something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately, Naomi opened her laptop and started browsing Bristol University's policies on transferring Law undergrads...

Emily

She threw her phone on the bed and stared out of the window. Being back at Bath was supposed to draw a line under her mistake. Because going to Gina's funeral had been a mistake. Or at least letting Naomi know she was there _definitely_ was. That stupid speech, written the night before while her emotions were overwhelming her...if it hadn't been for that, they could have followed Katie's original plan...come into the crematorium late, sit right at the back and, when the curtains closed over the coffin, leave quickly.

Job done. Respects paid.

But one glance into those blue eyes...one look at Naomi's pale, grief stricken face...and she was 16 all over again. Totally smitten by the taller girl, with a 'fuck you' attitude which attracted and repelled her equally. From that first time, Emily had never quite been in control of her feelings. No matter how hard Katie tried to interest her in the contents of Beckhams underwear...or her fearsome mothers not so subtle hints every week about her lack of a boyfriend (Katie picked up and dropped drooling boys like sweet wrappers from puberty) it was only ever going to be the girl with a permanent scowl and mismatched clothes. Everything that followed...the kisses, the lake, the moving in together...was inevitable.

Until Naomi went and ruined it with a sordid fumble with the sad eyed Sophia who offed herself so spectacularly at the club. Emily could deal with most things. The Campbell moods, the hot and cold treatment, even the occasional rejection in public. But cheating she couldn't abide. She remembered Naomi's face when she'd found out about Emily's brief and passionless shag with JJ. Well, the blonde had trumped that little indiscretion in spades. And broken Emily's heart into small, still beating pieces.

She thought, after punishing the blonde with icy disdain, cutting comments and public humiliation...both with Sarah at the barbecue and Mandy later on...that maybe the pain would subside...even after a suitable period of punishment, she could even learn to forgive. But the atmosphere between them just became more and more toxic. That night spent with a half naked Mandy in 'their' bed just proved the last straw. She hadn't gone through with what she'd intended to...stumbling up the stairs, she'd certainly been turned on enough to fuck the tall girl...revenge glowing in her heart...kissing and trying to take off the other girls top, but she _wanted_ to. Naomi was already asleep on the couch downstairs, floating on her daily diet cloud of alcohol and strong weed...she could have easily got away with screwing Mandy properly...her libido was definitely up for it. But by the time they'd dropped onto the mattress together, kissing and groping each other's tits, the room started spinning. Mandy had sighed, but went to get her a glass of water... and by the time she got back, Emily had passed out cold, asleep and snoring. No sale.

But Naomi had found out next morning that Mandy was definitely lots more than a friend to her Emily. And calling out the twin on her "_I love_ _you_" was the final nail in the coffin marked 'Naomi and Emily'

The brunette had left within the hour and hadn't been back to Chez Campbell until the night of the funeral.

Naomi

Another week passed. Things passed for 'normal' in the Campbell household. Kieran was late for work most days, which was nothing new. Naomi buried her Emily withdrawal symptoms with course work and repeatedly emailing Bristol Uni admissions to attempt the transfer of her degree. Whilst Goldsmiths were sympathetic about her bereavement, they weren't making things particularly easy. But she persevered. Emails went back and forth, and in between, she studied and kept the house clean. She even dug out a couple of her mums cookbooks...the ones not involving wall to wall vegetables..and attempted some proper meals. On her third attempt, a thick Irish Stew with ham, she even got a compliment from a bemused Kieran. Spooning another two ladles worth into his soup plate after he'd cleared it once, he smiled for what seemed to be the first time in months.

"Naomi, girl...I take my hat off to you...that was pretty impressive...just needs a bit more on the potato front and it would be almost edible...fair play"

Kieran's dedication to the humble potato was legendary and Naomi saw the twinkle in his eye. Coming from the sardonic Irishman, it was praise indeed.

Didn't stop her throwing a damp tea towel at him, but after weeks of gloom, it was good to just swap mild insults with her 'step father'. That evening, the Jameson's Irish Whiskey bottle stayed in the sideboard for once...neither felt the need for the deadening effect of alcohol. A small step, but as Naomi wished him goodnight, for the first time too, her step was lighter as she made her way upstairs.

Next day she got some news...and a visitor.

The news came via her laptop. Although she'd applied to Bristol for the transfer of her degree courses in Law and Spanish, there were no places available, mid term, despite her efforts to keep ahead of the syllabus. Goldsmiths had accepted she was serious about leaving, but the courses she wanted to graduate in were amongst the most popular. However...the second email she received made her sit down hard on the chair. It was an offer for the exact mix she wanted...at Bath.

The name Emily Fitch filled her head like a fire gong.

Emily went to Bath...

Could she stand to be THAT close to the object of her lifelong desire? And would Emily even stand for her presence that near anyway? Her heart raced as she considered being in such close proximity to the person who filled every spare thinking moment she had?.

Pacing her bedroom over and over, she tried to be objective. Even with Bath being a smaller town, there was no reason the two would be bumping into each other again and again if they didn't want to (Naomi admitted to herself it certainly wouldn't be _her_ who objected)...but Emily?

She might have agonised about it all day...but the visitor blew all that away.

Kieran was only just starting his afternoon shift when the door knocker tapped. Naomi was upstairs, reading. She huffed, expecting it to be the postman, who no longer called in the mornings. A fragment of vivid memory went through her mind as she walked quickly downstairs. Emily yelling upstairs that the guy had looked at her tits while she was staring adoringly at an old photograph of Naomi. It had amused Naomi then, even though anyone at all getting to see those perfect globes was never going to be on Naomi's Christmas card list. She had enough trouble thinking about JJ's brief and passionless experience with her ex. Emily had assured her that the boy hadn't even touched her there...it being the most sterile of pity shags, but it still rankled. Bit stupid really now...there wasn't really much doubt that several...maybe quite a lot of Bath females had probably seen much more of that creamy Fitch body than Jeremiah Jones...but…

She opened the door abruptly, her patent WTF look primed and ready.

A bit of a waste, as once she recognised the person standing there, her mouth dropped open like a politician caught with his expenses form…

"_Effy_?" she croaked.

"In the flesh" the woman opposite her smiled.

"Fuck _me_" was Naomi's considered and solitary response…

**More later in the week. Effy is always a catalyst and a disruptor. Hopefully I can do her justice. Thanks for popping by...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Another update. Hope it's worth reading!**

Naomi

The "_fuck me_" hung in the air for a couple of seconds as both girls regarded each other. Naomi was still shell shocked at seeing Effy Stonem at her door, but her brain still had enough cells to process other things as the surprise faded. First, that she was able to be there at all. Effy had been incarcerated again after Freddie's death and, apart from Katie, she didn't think anyone had heard from her in months. But here she was, large as life and just as insouciant. Dressed much more conservatively than before. Gone were the DM's, diaphanous shirt dresses and sheer black stockings. Instead, a pair of indigo Levi's, faded and slashed at the knee...a man's plain white shirt, only open two buttons at the top instead of the usual four, and a pair of plain black deck shoes. Positively formal for Effy Stonem. Her face was missing the black shadows under the eyes and pallid colour, and her hair hung past her shoulders in glossy waves, making her oval face and piercing blue eyes even more arresting. In short, she looked pretty damned good for someone who'd spent most of the past 6 months either in hospital or drugged to the eyeballs.

As the silence stretched, Naomi gradually regained the power of speech. But not before Effy had given her a trademark smirk which demonstrated her undimmed ability to see inside people's heads. Naomi coughed in semi embarrassment. She really should know better than to try to out think the Stonem girl. No one had succeeded yet...apart from...

The name of Effy's sociopathic counsellor, Foster jumped into her mind but she was recovering her mental balance now and ducked her head to stop Effy reading THOSE sort of thoughts. She looked up after a second and took the initiative.

"Looking pretty good Eff" she ventured, waving the other girl past her into the hallway.

"For a recovering nutcase, or just in general?" Effy grinned, walking inside.

Naomi blushed faintly, but she knew this sort of banter was par for the course. They'd never been close friends, but Effy had known about her and Emily right from the first day of term. Teasing Naomi about her not so well hidden feelings for the twin was a running theme whilst she was busily fighting them. But Effy had been kind on occasion too...and even protective, when others had been a lot less friendly. So as she followed the willowy brunette into the kitchen, Naomi was calmer.

Coffee on, seated and with the house empty apart from them, Naomi decided to get straight to the point.

"Sooo...to what do I owe this rare honour Eff...last I heard, you were..."

"Locked up with all the other nutters?" Effy finished for her.

"No...in hospital, recovering..." Naomi said quickly "...getting over..."

"Getting over my boyfriend being offed by my doctor then trying to murder Cook?"

Naomi actually gasped at that. Effy could always be relied on to cut straight through bullshit, but even for her, that was brutal. She shook her head.

"No Eff...getting over some shit that definitely wasn't your fault and..."

Effy smiled thinly.

"Look Naomi...I know what you mean...and thanks...but that's not why I'm here. I heard about your mum...that must have been really shit. We're friends...at least we used to be. And I know what other people are like when tragedy strikes. They tiptoe round you, saying all the wrong things, when they're trying to say the right ones. It makes it even harder...I'm guessing you've had a belly full of that crap?"

For a second there was silence as the coffee pot bubbled and Naomi considered what she'd heard. Finally she grinned. Honesty was refreshing after the last few weeks. The atmosphere in the small kitchen lightened.

"Bitch" she said

"Lezzer" Effy answered, grinning back.

While they drank the coffee and Effy lit a cigarette, (Naomi refusing the offer of one as she was trying to give up at least one vice), they spoke about other things. Pandora's madcap adventures in America...Effy getting weekly updates via Skype from the dizzy blonde...Tony's serial conquests in Cardiff...Naomi wasn't shocked to hear the older Stonem was still the most effective seducer the Welsh capital had ever hosted...and even a brief run down on the latest news about Cook. He'd worked out a deal with the authorities which eventually settled on 12 months in prison for the assault at the party, the drugs and his subsequent escape from custody. No charges were laid against him for the 'self defence' against the murderous Foster, even though the psychiatrist had been the one to wind up dead. Apparently the guy had rather a lot of other sins uncovered, once the police had thoroughly searched the house he was killed in. Freddie's murder was just the worst of them.

But they spent more time talking about other things...until the coffee was cold and Effy got to the point of her visit.

"So Naomi...what's the plan now? Go back to London...finish your degree...and...try to forget about the one subject we've both totally ignored so far?"

Naomi stiffened in her seat. She should have known this was coming. If Effy was out of hospital, living in Bristol...she would be in touch at least with Katie. And wherever Katie was...Emily was sure to be close by, or at least in regular contact with. Her mouth opened to stop Effy saying anything more, but she should have known better.

"Cut the denials Naomi...I heard all about the funeral. She stayed here overnight...I did hope you guys might have used the time to..."

"What...get my leg over...rekindle our romance...at my mums wake? Even for you Eff, that's..."

Naomi spat the words defensively.

"Stop deflecting Naomi...that's not what I meant and you know it. But you had the chance to reconnect. To stop punishing each other after all these months. You fucked up, she left you...but..."

"But what Effy...I spent MONTHS trying to show her how sorry I was about...about Sophia...months of being ignored, humiliated, cheated on...what difference was my mums dying gonna make? Gina's dead, Emily came to the funeral, I lost it...she stayed here while I was in bits. But when I woke up...she was gone. Just a fucking post it note with '_sorry_' on it..."

Effy let Naomi get it all out. It needed to be done.

"So why leave it there? OK, maybe a post it note isn't the most elegant way of saying bye...but she stayed with you. Forgive me if I'm being dense, but it's not the act of someone who doesn't care about you?"

"Not the point though is it Eff? I never thought she stopped caring...but she's stopped _loving_ me. It's obvious?"

"Not from where I'm sitting. She could have just dropped into the service, then left without you even knowing she was there...you weren't expecting her to come, were you?"

Naomi frowned in frustration. Effy had an irritating habit of demolishing her carefully worked out arguments with a one of her own. She remembered the party where she'd first admitted Emily wasn't just a friend. Not that Effy was fooled anyway.

"B...but...she just went...not a word since?"

Effy shrugged.

"...and she's not answered any of your texts or calls since...?"

Naomi looked away...

"You haven't sent her any texts, or called her...have you Naomi?"

She shook her head in reply. Said out loud, it was worse somehow.

"I...I..wanted to but...I..."

"...was too much of a pussy...so instead you waited for her to call you...and when she didn't...you assumed the worst, let her be the villain?"

Naomi reddened again. Got it in one, she thought bitterly.

"Kind of.." she grudgingly admitted. God, this girl was annoyingly direct.

"Right...so now we have the basic facts. Let's see if we can salvage anything from the train wreck you and the youngest Fitch twin have made of things. Do you still love her Naomi?"

The blonde gasped again. No beating around the bush with Miss Stonem, as per. But she had to answer that. To herself as well as Effy. She bit her lip until it ached, but Effy just regarded quietly her with those calm, blue eyes, waiting.

"Yes...damn you...yes. Isn't it fucking obvious?"

Effy smiled, not unkindly.

"Bingo...see, wasn't so hard, was it?"

It was very hard, Naomi thought, but now it was out there, she felt strangely lighter.

"...and Emily still loves you..." Effy stated calmly, as if that wasn't the most combustible thing she could ever say.

"No she _doesn't_" Naomi said flatly. She'd stopped believing that months ago and it was hard to let the fig leaf go.

"Bollocks" Effy said with a snort. "...she might have spent a few months hating you...hating what you did. But she still loves you. Why I'm not sure...seeing as how it took her almost a year to get that broomstick out of your arse and to admit you loved her too _first_ time round...but she does. I know?"

Naomi spluttered to find the words.

"HOW do you know Eff...she's in Bath...probably shagging a different gorgeous female fresher every Saturday night...how can you possibly know what she thinks any more?"

Effy sighed. Naomi was always hard work, but separation from Emily had put her right back to early Roundview days.

"You might well be right about the shagging...uh...she did go through a bit of a '_girl whore_' phase just after you fucked off to Goldsmiths...but then I'm guessing you did your fair share of putting it about in London too..trying to block it all out after you got to Uni?"

Naomi felt like someone had punched her in the gut. Her brain registered the 'girl whore' tag and it felt like her heart had been put into a vice. She'd tried studiously to avoid thoughts of what Emily might be up to as a newly single, highly fuckable lesbian alone in Bath, without total success. But having it said out loud almost made her bawl.

"_Fuck_..." she said miserably, putting her head in her hands. "...don't spare me the gory details Eff...will you?"

Effy ignored Naomi's pain...if this thing could be salvaged, she had to be this brutal. She knew subtlety was not going to hack it.

"It's a fact Naomi...deal with it. You guys had split up, you went to London. She's a very, very pretty girl. Girls are gonna want her. But she does still love you. I've spent enough time listening to Katie moaning about the pissed midnight calls from her sister...crying over you. She loves you...but you need to do something to break this cycle. She may have shagged her way through half the class, trying to make up for lost time, but inside she's still bat shit crazy about you. Time you stepped up and made some of the running. Fucking DO something, instead of waiting for her to. Don't you think it's time you went to her?"

Naomi's head was spinning and her stomach revolted as lurid images of Emily fucking her way through the new student intake threatened to overwhelm her. But after a few seconds of indecision, she looked up again at a silent Effy.

"You're right. I've been sitting here, waiting for something to happen that's never gonna, unless I do something?"

Effy laughed

"Fucking hallelujah...she gets it...my work here is done. Anyway...I've got stuff to do...me and Katie are having lunch...and I'm late already. She does hate having to order alone..?"

Naomi's eyes went wide.

"You and Katie?...You're not actually fuc...I mean..."

Effy grinned knowingly.

"Nah...Katie's not _quite_ that adventurous...worse luck...she's pretty fucking fit, our Katie...but no...we share a flat nowadays. She's a good mate"

Effy started to get up, then paused. Her face got serious again.

"I think you need to take this chance Naomi. Go see her...make her understand how you really feel about her. It still might not be easy...she's been really burned. But like I said...underneath it all, she loves you. She just needs to be reminded properly _why_ you deserve a second chance?"

Naomi nodded, then got up to see Effy out. She could tell the other girl wanted to say something more, but it was only when they got to the front door that the brunette turned to her.

"Good luck Naomi...I really hope you work things out with Emily. You guys deserve some happiness? "

The door opened as Naomi stood to one side and allowed Effy to leave.

"There's just one thing you need to know...because we've been all about the truth today Naomi, yeah?"

Naomi nodded, puzzled.

Effy took a deep breath and looked Naomi straight in the eye.

"I slept with Emily.. once...back when she was at her worst. You need to know that"

With that, Effy turned and walked away, down the path and out of the garden, turning into the street without looking back.

Naomi stood with her mouth open, watching her back disappearing down the road.

What the FUCK?

**Thanks for reading**


	10. Chapter 10

**Change of character here...this chapter begins with Effy's take. **

Effy

Walking down the hill towards the main road and taxi rank, Effy had time to consider the hand grenade she'd just thrown into Naomi's kitchen. It wasn't that she enjoyed upsetting the blonde, but going in, she'd been determined to get all the trash out in one go. Making Naomi honestly admit her feelings about Emily was one thing, but to omit the fact that she'd slept with Emily herself wasn't acceptable. She'd saved it to the end, because she knew at any other time it would have ended the conversation instantly. She remembered Emily telling her once about the devastated response Naomi gave to the news about JJ and the pity shag, so she wasn't surprised at how badly her own little indiscretion would play.

Her phone beeped twice on the way down the hill. Both texts from Naomi. She ignored them...for the time being. The blonde would be broken, angry and vengeful. Best not get into a text war right now..

But Naomi was easily readable. Once she'd broken some crockery, stamped about a bit and called Effy every name she could remember, the blonde would start to analyse her feelings more calmly (she hoped). She hadn't really changed much since middle school. Solitary, sarcastic and intelligent. But also vulnerable, easily hurt and much more emotionally fragile than she pretended to be. Effy thought maybe only three people (at least now Gina was gone) actually saw beneath the hard shell Naomi showed to the world. Herself of course, Cook, in one of his rare introspective moments and a certain dark eyed brunette twin currently living in Bath.

But that was by the by now. Gina had sadly departed this life...Cook was in jail for at least another 5 months, although from all accounts, he was just as disruptive and rebellious inside as he had been out. No guarantee he wouldn't end up doing the whole 12 months, or more. Of course, Emily was the one who knew Naomi the best. But despite Effy trying her best to heal the fracture on the frequent occasions the younger twin turned up at the apartment Effy and Katie shared, it hadn't worked.

Yet.

It was hard to believe that losing a mother was a thing you could gain any positives from. But Effy had spotted the opportunity when it arose. Naomi was back in town...Emily was sad and nostalgic and with the funeral happening, they put aside their problems for a few hours and...

...and nothing. Zip. Nada. Zero.

Emily had gone back to Bath. Naomi was holed up in her mums house and nothing was getting any forward momentum. Something had to happen.

So Effy took it on herself, despite being told forcibly to keep out of it by her flat mate, to do some running repairs on the broken lovers.

But to do that, she made sure there were no secrets left to be revealed later. Secrets and lies were what had separated the girls in the first place. That and the clumsy attempt by Naomi to carry out a pre-emptive strike on an adoring Emily...by having sex with the late lamented Sophia, then trying unsuccessfully to cover it up.

Yes, Naomi would be devastated to hear that her sweet little Emily had been shagging around. But the fact that Effy had been one of her conquests had got to hurt more...a whole lot more. It's one thing knowing your ex has been putting it about a bit since you split. But hooking up with someone you both know is punishment times ten. But Effy didn't regret telling her. The plaster had to come off, better quick than slow.

While the taxi idled, mostly stationary through the busy Bristol traffic, Effy did a bit of daydreaming of her own.

It had happened over two months ago. Naomi hadn't been seen or heard from in a good while. Emily was still going through her '_eat everything_' student buffet period at Bath. She'd turn up at Effy and Katie's flat most weekends, usually on Sunday morning. Her neck and shoulders leaving no doubt that someone had been gnawing her the night before. Makeup smeared, buttons frequently done up wrong. Katie would take one look at her, give her a verbal blasting that could be heard in Swindon, then pack her off to the bathroom, clucking like a mother hen at the state of her twin. Half an hour later, they would emerge, both in bathrobes. Emily looking miles better, but very sheepish. They'd all three spend the rest of the day lazing about, drinking red wine and eating chocolate, watching rubbish TV.

Sunday night, Emily would put on her freshly laundered clothes and leave again for Bath...promising Katie she'd be 'more careful' next weekend. But of course, once back there, once the loneliness and anger consumed her again, she'd be back on the same treadmill. Rinse and repeat.

Friday and Saturday night getting trashed, taking too many drugs and using interchangeable randoms to blot out her ongoing misery. It was a depressing ritual, hard to watch for Effy, but infinitely more so for Katie. Ever the overprotective twin.

But this particular weekend was different. Different because Katie was up in London herself, an interview with a mid sized fashion house who were about to open an office in Bristol. She'd been short listed from an applicant list of dozens on the strength of her sketches and obvious determination to succeed. Staying overnight in the big city was the cherry on the cake. Effy had seen her off with a heartfelt good luck and a kiss on the cheek.

When the doorbell rang at around 9m Saturday night, Effy was wary about opening the door with Katie away. But one look in the doorbell viewer and her anxiety gave way to resigned acceptance.

In the blurry screen she could see an obviously worse for wear Emily, leaning on the door and grinning hopefully at the lens.

"Effy...let me in love...it's fucking _freezing_ out here?" the small brunette laughed. Her eyes, even in the small image showing with huge pupils. She was wearing a 'barely there' black leather skirt, with sheer black tights and a tight crimson tee shirt. Even from the less than perfect view Effy had of her, it was pretty obvious Emily had been on the lash already.

"Great" Effy said to herself, pressing the entry button reluctantly "...a pissed up Fitch, and Katie fucking 100 miles away...lucky old me"

Emily burst into the apartment, obviously extremely high on something. She hugged Effy and was talking non stop even as she walked in. Effy guessed some sort of amphetamine/MDMA mix given the twins mood of mixed euphoria and tactile excess. Separating herself from the hugging, overexcited twin, Effy persuaded her to sit and help her finish the 3/4 bottle of Shiraz still on the coffee table. Normally she was a light drinker these days. The new meds weren't over tolerant of excessive drinking and she was just as happy sharing some vino with the older twin at weekends, just sipping while Katie drank most of it.

Emily dropped heavily onto the couch next to Effy and took a long swallow. It wasn't likely to dampen her mood much...it looked like whatever she'd taken, it was very recently. She was proper buzzing, chatting non stop and unable to keep still.

It seemed she'd been in a car full of undergrads, coming to Bristol from Bath, headed for some sort of private party on the good old Thekla. The boat moored in the dock had vivid memories for both of them. It was the first time Emily had physically chased after Naomi and faced the accusation of being gay. Effy's recollections about the night were hazier...too much powder, although she remembered enough to grimace to herself.

But on a toilet stop in town with three other first years (time no doubt for another generous white, powdery line on a cistern top), Emily had lingered a little too long, enjoying the brutal rush, coming outside to find the car had gone without her. Wired as she was, she had no idea what to do. But her sisters address was on her phone.

A short taxi drive and here she was. Large as life and twice as hyper.

Effy tried her best to sober Emily up over the next half hour, but it was obvious after a period of enduring Pandora level, chemically fuelled gibberish, that she could either go to bed and leave Emily to her own devices... which would mean an empty drinks cupboard on Sunday... or drink some more with her and try to tune in to the twins sky high sensory level.

The second bottle of Shiraz was the killer. Effy really wasn't used to heavy drinking any more. With Emily so animated and touchy feely, disaster was right round the corner. It only took one sly question.

Emily was trying to open a third bottle, sitting side by side with a now more than slightly tanked Effy. She turned to her with a glint in her eye. Sober, Effy would have recognised the expression and backed off. But...

"Eff...?" Emily said, putting the bottle down and licking her lips. A sign Naomi Campbell would have recognised instantly. Emily Fitch was horny and stoned…a lethal combination.

"Yes Emily" Effy answered, putting her own empty glass down warily.

"Why...why did we never, you know...get it on...you and me?"

The question was so loaded, Effy almost laughed out loud. A snarky remark about Emily having eyes for absolutely no one back then but pretty blondes with intense blue eyes froze on her lips as she realised Emily was serious.

"Dunno Ems...err...timing?" she tried lamely, easing herself backwards as Emily pressed forward.

"I always thought you were proper fit...but you never tried it on with me...don't you think I'm attractive?" Emily said huskily, then put her hand on Effy's bare knee. Suddenly she regretted not putting on more clothes when her flat mates sister turned up. A thin tee shirt over cotton girl shorts wasn't exactly a suit of armour, with a determined Fitch around. Effy swallowed thickly. Fuck...she thought...she's actually serious.

"I, uh...look Emily...we're good friends. I really don't think ..."

Emily moved closer

"Don't think...waste of time" she breathed.

With that, Emily leaned forward and kissed Effy. It wasn't a sloppy, passion filled kiss. More tentative and exploring. But Effy's good intentions leached out of her after a few more moments with the twins lips on hers. Later, she blamed the alcohol, the meds...Emily's persistence. But there was a grain of truth in what the little twin had just said. Effy had considered more than once taking advantage of Naomi's serial reluctance to commit. There HAD always been a faint spark between her and Emily. It was more lack of opportunity which stopped anything happening. Back then Effy was determinedly ambiguous about her lovers. She might have dangled her favours between Cook and Freddie generously, but she'd never been one to put labels on anything. More than once she'd stumbled from a night club, lips and...other places...tingling with recent female activity. Effy was all about the pleasure, the chase…experiments.

But now...

Emily pressed herself harder against Effy and used the tip of her tongue to open the other girls lips. Effy couldn't help her own little sigh of surrender. Even drunk and high, Emily Fitch was as fit as fuck. The tight tee, the minuscule skirt, ridden up to reveal a tiny red lace thong underneath...the hands that were lazily exploring her neck and shoulders. It was all _way_ too easy.

She only pulled back once. Snogging heatedly with Emily half on top of her, she felt the twins hand move from kneading her tits to the top of her girl shorts. There was no doubt where Emily's fingers were heading. Effy gripped the other girls wrist, stopping the hand slipping inside to touch warm flesh.

"W...what are you...Effy...you're surely not stopping now...you want me, don't you..?" Emily pouted adorably. Her eyes were virtually black, pupils expanded fully.

"No...I'm not stopping you Emily" Effy said in a pitch an octave lower than her usual one "...just not here, on the couch...if you really want this...want me...then..."

She nodded towards her bedroom. Emily virtually swooned at the surrender in that sentence.

"Oh fuck _yeah_" she growled...getting up while still holding on to Effy's hand "...come on then?"

The husk in her voice made Effy clench. Fuck...they were really gonna do this?

Emily pulled Effy to her feet almost roughly, kissed her for a few more seconds, then led the way to the darkened room, pulling the brunette behind her.

For over an hour, Emily demonstrated just how much she'd learned about a woman's body since she'd moved to Bath. Their naked and sweating bodies entwined, hands and tongues exploring every available inch of flesh..., and there was an awful lot of that. Once committed, Effy was never going to back out. Emily was officially single...and every bit of her was now available to explore. The room resonated to sighs, moans and squeaky bed springs. When Emily went down on Effy, she had a moment to realise just how much she'd missed a clever female tongue. The twin was inventive, skilled and determined. Effy's orgasm was explosive.

She returned the favour without reluctance. Watching Emily twist and arch under her own oral pleasuring. It was over an hour before they finished with each other.

By the time Emily had exhausted her extensive repertoire of sexual skills, Effy was left like a rag doll. She'd been had by experienced lovers before, male and female, but she really couldn't remember being fucked quite so comprehensively. Not for the first time, she wondered how Naomi had the strength of mind to let this pocket Venus slip from her hands...

The only small thing that bothered her was that Emily didn't open her eyes once during the sex. It was only much later that Effy understood why...despite the heat and lust between them...despite Emily's eagerness to please and be pleased...the person Emily was making love to...wasn't her. It was a tall blonde with blue eyes...

Effy laid on top of the bed for a long while after Emily had finally rolled off her and started to breath evenly, her libido finally sated. Now that the sex was over though, the guilt came rushing in to her head. Guilt was something the younger Effy rarely felt. But she did then. Now the endorphins had gone, reality wasn't quite so enticing. She'd shagged her flatmates sister...her twin sister. What's more, she'd shagged her friends ex girlfriend.

Emily.

She knew the morning would bring the same sort of regret to Emily. Without the drugs, Effy knew without a doubt the twin would suffer the sort of guilt and remorse she was currently going through, but in spades. And that was without Katie...

Fuck, _Katie_, she thought, getting off the bed without rousing Emily and quickly pushing her abandoned tee over her shoulders, covering as much of her nakedness as she could.

Katie will _kill_ me... she thought.

As it happened, Katie didn't kill her, but it was a damned close thing.

Effy fell asleep on the couch eventually, after leaving Emily in the bedroom. When she woke, some time after 11, the apartment was dark and silent. She peeked into the bedroom through the part open door and was relieved to see it empty. Emily had presumably left sometime earlier. But the smell of sex, the rumpled and damp sheets told their own tale. Quickly Effy gathered up the under sheet, pillowcases and duvet cover, putting them into the washing machine on a hot wash in the kitchen...but not before opening the bedroom and lounge windows wide, despite the chilly breeze, to rid the crime scene of her guilty secret. She scoured the room for any evidence of the younger twin, but nothing remained. Obsessively, she went over the room again. Katie could normally be relied on to make plenty of concessions for Effy...but the slim brunette knew without doubt that shagging her younger sister was definitely _not_ something her flatmate was likely to forgive easily. They both knew Emily was in a bad place emotionally. Despite her frequent and vociferous denials, it was obvious she was missing Naomi terribly and compensating with randoms. But Effy?

She shivered at the possible consequences. Deciding after she'd again swept the apartment for evidence of Emily's visit to take the initiative, despite being scared of the conversation, she picked up her mobile phone...Katie was likely to be another couple of hours yet...and dialled Emily's number.

It went to voicemail. She texted instead. No reply.

Three more times she called the number, hanging up when the automated voice started speaking. Nope, Emily wasn't biting. She sighed...this wasn't something which could wait. So next time she left a message.

"Emily, it's Effy. But you know that. Stop ignoring my calls. We need to talk about this…last night... Katie's still not home yet. Call me _now_?"

For half an hour she waited without an answer. Finally, she grudgingly accepted Emily was ducking her big time. The conversation would have to wait.

XXX

It took acting of the finest Stonem standard to be nonchalant when Katie swept into the apartment later that day. The interview had gone well and the older twin was full of excited chatter about her potential boss, the 'lush' London hotel she'd stayed in and how fit and shaggable the guy was in the next hotel room. Effy let it all wash over her, nodding and smiling at appropriate points. Finally, Katie went into the bathroom for a soak, allowing Effy to try another couple of unsuccessful calls to Emily. Groaning in frustration as the voicemail kicked in yet again, Effy threw the phone onto the spare chair and sat on the couch, glowering.

After half an hour, she gave up waiting, went into the kitchen and started preparing a salad for dinner. Chopping tomatoes, peppers and lettuce, she dressed the plates with chutney, capers and olive oil, before taking two small roasted chicken breasts from the fridge and stripping the skin from them. Katie was permanently on a low calorie diet and Effy was never a big eater. Chicken was about the most they ever bothered with, meat wise.

It was as she lifted the plates, turning round to walk towards the lounge, that she heard two voices. It took a second to realise who she was hearing. But when her brain caught up with her ears, she all but dropped the plates.

One of the voices was Emily's...on voicemail.

"_Eff...it's Emily. Look, I'm not ready to talk about last night yet. We __hooked up, no big deal?__...It was a mistake I know. I'm __truly __sorry. I'll give you a call later in the week when I can. Oh...and for __**fucks**__ sake, don't let Katie find out...please?"_

The next voice was clearer. _Much_ clearer. Standing in the doorway, in a bathrobe, hand clutching Effy's phone, was Katie...a very pissed off Katie.

"Did you...did you shag my fucking _sister_ last night Effy...what the actual _FUCK_?"

Effy carefully put the plates down before turning to face Katie again. This was gonna be really, _really_ fucking bad...

**Hope you enjoyed it. More soon. Thanks for reading**.


	11. Chapter 11

**Next part then...KFF in a bit of a temper...tin helmets at the ready…**

Effy

For the first five minutes, Effy didn't even try to talk. Katie was incandescent with rage at both her and her errant twin. Effy was variously _terminally stupid_, _a slut_ and the _worst friend in the world_. Two innocent tea cups were early victims of the magma explosion, too close to the epicentre to survive. Effy consoled herself that at least it was a: the older cups from the back of the cupboard she'd meant to throw out anyway and b: it wasn't actually _her_ lying broken on the kitchen tiles. But she'd ridden out (no pun intended) several KFF earthquakes in the past, so kept her cool, her head suitable bowed in contrition and waited patiently for the shouting to stop.

Unfortunately, she knew that was the most dangerous time. Katie lost her temper easily, but like a summer storm, it passed quickly enough. The aftermath was sometimes a lot worse.

Only once before had the twin adopted the '_I'm __**SO**__ disappointed in you, Elizabeth_' expression and Effy remembered it with a genuine twinge of alarm. That time had been months ago, when one of their old acquaintances had turned up to pay them a visit. Not one of the main gang, but someone Effy had tormented for a while during a lull in the Freddie/Cook triple torture dance back at Roundview. Mike something or other? Anyway...he'd bumped into Effy in the supermarket, when she'd popped out for milk at 11am, and she showed up with him at the apartment, where Katie was pacing the floor, pale with anxiety and fear, several hours later. She hadn't shagged him...not that she wasn't seriously considering it mind...but he'd had something on him way more dangerous than his not very impressive dick. They'd sat in the park, watching the ducks, while smoking a family sized series of joints, rendering the slim brunette almost catatonic. Sensimilia and strong prescription anti psychotics do not a happy mixture make. Luckily for Effy, he wasn't a complete creep and hadn't taken advantage of her pliable state to pin her to a handy wall in a bid to reacquaint their uglies. His luck ran out though when he poured her through the door of the apartment to find a virtually erupting Katie just inside the entrance. One look at her flatmate and the Fitch twin didn't need an instruction book to understand what had gone on. Laughing boy suddenly found himself on the other end of the feared Katie Fitch right hook, (courtesy of an overprotective father, who'd educated both his girls in the noble art of self defence).

Mike toppled backwards with a look on his face as shocked as a journalist hearing a politician telling the truth. The door slammed shut on him and his hoped for carnal re-acquaintance with the previously sexually generous Stonem girl was at an end.

Effy was put to bed by a stony faced Katie, who utterly ignored her not entirely joking request to join her for some 'bonding'...but the payback was only delayed, not cancelled. It had taken nearly a week for Effy to resume normal relations with Katie. Silent evenings watching the TV from different chairs and just the occasional sneer to break the monotony.

Effy hadn't forgotten the misery quickly, so this was an unwelcome bit of deja vu. She sighed as Katie moved into her post apocalyptic phase and waited for the inquest to begin.

"_Why_ Eff...I mean...you're not even fucking _gay_…?"

"Who says?" Effy retorted, then winced at her inability to prevent smart remarks coming out of her mouth.

"About half the male population of Bristol?" Katie snapped snidely, knowing the one thing to get through to her flatmate was a reminder of Effy's very commendable attempt to shag most of the eligible men in her postcode before she was 18.

Luckily the next retort that almost left Effy's lips was aborted. This wasn't the time to remind Katie about her own little cock league table on a chalk board. Even if it was just as impressive as Effy's. Instead, the willowy brunette shrugged and kept quiet.

But Katie wasn't finished.

"I'm gonna _kill_ Emily...just because she's trying to mend her fucking broken heart by shagging her way through the Uni first year...doesn't mean she has to crap on our doorstep. I mean...what were you both _thin__king_…?

Effy shrugged again, knowing it would infuriate Katie but not knowing quite what else to say. She knew it had been a massive mistake. Emily was breaking all her own rules in an attempt to blot out her heartache, but still…

"Look..." she tried, as Katie took a deep breath, no doubt about to launch another salvo "...I'm sorry...truly. We weren't thinking...She turned up here...hammered and high as a fucking hot air balloon and..."

"You tripped and fell into her knickers?" Katie said with contempt. "...we both know that's a crock of shit. My sister is trying her best to turn into the lezzer Whore of Babylon...but she doesn't need any help from you...I thought you were her friend Eff…I thought you were MY friend?"

That one was designed to hurt, and it did. Effy's eyes blazed for a moment, but any righteous indignation she had stored up evaporated as she saw Katie's eyes had filled with unshed tears. This is what she was most afraid of. The anger she could deal with...Katie was pretty fucking fierce in bitch mode, but Effy hated more than anything to see disappointment in those liquid brown eyes. She bit her lip, a very non Effy gesture.

"I am sorry Katie...really sorry. I have no excuses...we had a few drinks, things got a bit...well, you know how she gets on MDMA...and..."

Katie raised her eyebrow and Effy stopped before she made things infinitely worse. Reminding Katie what a horn-dog her twin was on chemicals wasn't the brightest thing to say.

"Which is why she needs us..._both_ of us...to be the adults in the fucking room? I can't do anything about her whoring herself round Bath...but here? You know fucking better, even if she doesn't"

And with that parting barb, Katie did a smart 180 and went into her bedroom, slamming the door. Effy heard one side of the phone conversation she had with Emily later, but after cringing through five full minutes of blistering wrath, put on headphones and turned up the volume on the radio as far as she dared, without permanently damaging her hearing...

It was almost a week…. A week when no words were exchanged between the flatmates...until even cursory conversation was resumed. No matter how conciliatory Effy was, no matter how many times she cooked dinner, or bought Katie's favourite wine to go with it...no matter how many sorrys she tried...Katie was going to make sure her penance was long and hard.

But eventually Effy worked her way back into the older twins good books. They made good flatmates normally. It just worked. Emily stayed away for nearly two weeks and gradually things got back to normal. Emily was permanently banned from visiting anytime Katie wasn't around. But that wasn't really necessary. Despite her bravado, the younger twin was mortified about what she'd done. But it couldn't be undone...so they just got on with things.

Until now...and Effy knew the next conversation she needed to have with Katie was the one where she confessed to telling Naomi what she'd done. Because even though she knew it would drive the blonde crazy...knowing someone who wasn't a random had slept with her ex, she hoped that it would prompt some sort of resolution. She hated seeing two people who loved each other so much it was written on both their foreheads for everyone to see, being apart. Both scared to death to make the first move.

Emily's little dalliance with JJ back at Roundview had been the catalyst for Naomi to banish her demons, dress up (although the Love Ball frock was, according to Katie anyway, a mix between a wedding cake and one of those knitted things you put over toilet rolls) and face Emily and her fearsome sister. If only the late lamented Sophia hadn't thrown herself onto the dance floor from 20 feet up a few months later, it might still have been OK...but anyway…

Effy had thrown the house sized stone in the water...now the ripples were in motion.

XXX

A few miles away, Emily was just putting her books in her locker and trying to hide behind the thin door as a persistent fresher was walking towards her. With a sinking heart, Emily recognised her instantly. A club, too much tequila and an opportunity. That was normally all it took these days. A frantic mutual finger fuck against the library wall and a swap of (fictitious...on Emily's part anyway) phone numbers and the job was done. But the girl...Amanda? Had turned out to be a bunny boiler extraordinaire. Everywhere Emily went; the tall brunette seemed to find her. Coffee, drinks, the movies...everything was offered. But Emily wasn't about to start any sort of relationship. Relationships sucked, right? You got your heart broken and the misery far outweighed the pleasure.

But the ever smiling Amanda hadn't got the memo it seemed. No matter how many times and how brutally Emily turned her down...next day she was back, hopeful, smiling…like an overeager beagle puppy.

And here she was again. Walking slowly down the crowded corridor, brown eyes scanning the students left and right...looking….looking for her.

Emily groaned and ducked lower behind the grey metal door. If she could only keep out of the taller girls eyeline...there were enough people passing to cover her...just another second…

"_**Brrriiiing**_"

The sound of Emily's ring tone sounded like a fucking trumpet calling the retreat. Emily couldn't help her despairing groan as every eye within ten feet turned towards the place she was crouching. Including Amanda's.

She grabbed the phone from her bag, desperately trying to shut the fucking thing up. Pulling it free, she glanced at the ID of the caller.

And froze.

_Naomi_...it said.

Her heart thumped painfully. How the fuck…?

Amanda forgotten, her thumb automatically hit the green symbol. Her brain, if it had been in gear, would have told her it probably wasn't the best time to take a call from her ex. But as always...her heart won the battle. Since when had she ever refused al call from Naomi?

She lifted the phone to her ear and watched Amanda approach…

**Shortish, but more soon, promise!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for the reviews. Happy a few people are reading and enjoying**.

Naomi

It took three days for Naomi to get round to doing something about the hand grenade Effy had dropped in her lap. In truth, it hadn't been massively surprising to her that Emily had been putting it about a bit in Bath. Naomi remembered the period a few weeks after the two had acrimoniously split. Once her mind had accepted that Emily wasn't about to forgive her this side of the sun going all red giant...and she'd exhausted the little savings she had left on brain deadening neat spirits and weed, her discarded tough outer shell had gradually rebuilt itself. With no physical Emily presence to torment her with '_what ifs_' and '_if_ _only she_'...she'd gone on to consoling herself with a succession of mostly unsatisfactory one night stands with randoms too. It took her a couple of months to stop punishing herself with loveless hetero fucks in toilets and doorways. Why should Emily be any different?

OK, Emily was probably choosier than Naomi had been...the younger Fitch twin never had any problem attracting good looking admirers even when she was being Katie's doormat, but in her saner moments, Naomi admitted to herself that the out, confident and newly single Emily was sure to have attracted a lot of female attention. Emily Fitch was smoking hot...end of.

But the leap from that, to knowing Effy _Stonem_ had been one of those 'conquests' was jaw dropping. It made it personal...but more than that..it made it achingly real. Watching Effy's elegant back disappearing down the road after she'd shocked the blonde to the core, Naomi had gone through about a dozen emotions in two seconds. Anger certainly...despair, disbelief...but in the end, mute acceptance. It was like the seven stages of grief, only in an hourglass.

Which, of course, didn't make it any easier. Instead of blurring the hurt with consoling thoughts about the sort of fumbling, unsatisfactory copulating she'd endured herself, now there was an all too vivid reminder of the kind of beauty and hotness someone like Effy Stonem brought to a party. Naomi literally banged her head against the hallway wall, in a vain attempt to stop insistent lurid thoughts tormenting her.

_Emily and Effy...kissing_

_Effy and Emily...naked_

_Emily's orgasm face...aargh…_!

When she finally got her brain together enough to stagger into the kitchen, she had to physically stop herself reaching for the tempting bottle of chilled vodka in the fridge. She knew _that_ journey way too well now...at the end was only a savage hangover and even bleaker despair. Instead, she took out a carton of fresh orange juice, filled a glass and sat heavily at the table, head in hands.

Her phone buzzed...but when she took it out, it was just a fucking marketing message about life insurance, which would have made her laugh savagely at the irony, if only she could be bothered to answer it. Thumbing the reject call icon, she opened her other text messages without much enthusiasm...nothing.

Savagely, she sent two short and bitter messages of her own to Effy...knowing before she sent them that they would be ignored. But enough of her old personality still remained...so she sent them anyway.

Ten minutes later she was still staring at the darkened screen, the juice undrunk.

It was no good, she thought. Knowing Effy and Emily had hooked up was a new reality. Tormenting herself about the hows and whys was stupid...self indulgent. Effy knew exactly the reaction that little bombshell would produce...and she'd done it deliberately. Despite the cold emptiness in her stomach, gradually Naomi started to get her head straight.

It was done... instantly she remembered the hollow despair she'd felt when Katie had nastily let on about Emily and JJ's brief heterosexual tumble. She thought at the time she would never get the images out of her head...not helped of course by the hapless Jeremiah Jones being unable to be in the same room as Emily without his eyes crawling over the perfect body he'd once enjoyed. But she had in the end, putting it into a mental box marked '_unimportant things_' and spending a whole lot more time reacquainting herself with Emily Fitches creamy body...erasing all thoughts of anyone else getting this personal with it ever again.

Until of course she fucked up so royally with her own bit of adulterous fumbling with the unfortunate Sophia...

But that line of thought wasn't exactly helpful in her present state of mind, so she crushed it ruthlessly.

Over the next couple of days, she formalised her new plan of action. The first one was to call the admissions office at Bath and confirm her place. Within hours there were several emails in her inbox with hefty attachments, the syllabus and lecture notes. Naomi was gratified that this Uni was at least as efficient as Goldsmiths had been at admin. She printed them all off and noted her lecture times, locations and the first submission dates. It occupied her brain and appealed to her clinical approach to learning. Even at Roundview, with its sometimes chaotic upper management and haphazard classes, her refuge had been an almost obsessive need to catalogue, to list and to arrange her own learning curve, whatever the vagaries of staffing...from Kieran's occasional rambling monologues to Josie's pseudo psychotic reliance on a hand puppet called Gerald to get her Shakespearean references across. It was one of the traits she shared (in fact the ONLY one) with JJ.

Probably the reason the two of them got 3 straight A's in their exams...

But finally, the course work and her schedule were sorted to her satisfaction. It had been a useful distraction, but now, as she sat at the familiar kitchen table, laptop closed and two A4 binders filled with paperwork, her mind started to wander again.

Naomi wasn't one to confide in people much. Emily had been her sole outlet for worry's and doubts to be aired... The only other person she felt comfortable opening up to had been Gina. Tears pricked her eyes as she looked around the kitchen. Her mum was a constant here, even if she would never physically stand at the sink again, dispensing homespun philosophy to a dubious Naomi.

The chalkboard had long since been cleared of assorted rota's and spurious vegetable/fruit references. The smaller blackboard next to the door also had the cheese and lobster quotes wiped away, but even as she let her grief wash over her again, something close to a firm resolution gripped her. Wiping her eyes fiercely, she stood up, took a stick of white chalk from the drawer which always stuck when you opened it, and stood in front of the clean black surface. She almost chickened out...Kieran would be home in a couple of hours and he was sure to mock her gently, but she shook her head to clear it and started printing words on the squeaky surface.

"_I love you more than cheese"_ she wrote, remembering how much the Friends quote had made Emily giggle.

"_AND__ fucking lobster!_" she printed under it. She remembered how much stick her mother had given her about that one.

"_You do realise the poor creatures are boiled alive...just so rich capitalists can eat them fresh?_..."

No matter how many times Naomi tried to convince Gina it wasn't actually a reference to eating the poor things, the older woman still winced when her eyes fell on it.

Well, Gina was gone...but if anything good could be dragged kicking and screaming from this nightmare, Naomi was determined to try. It was a little bit of Emily...a faint echo of happier days.

Something to hang on to.

Next, she overcame her natural horror of cooking and decided to treat Kieran to a meat based Campbell dinner when he got in. For the past two weeks, both consumed by their own grief, they'd existed on tinned soup, takeaways from the Chinese and Pot bloody Noodles. He'd never complained, just morosely ate whatever came out of the rapidly diminishing overhead cupboard. But Naomi decided enough was enough. Putting her jacket on, she grabbed her purse and jumped on her rickety bike.

Half an hour later, after several near death experiences on the way back, balancing two overfull carrier bags on the bike handle bars, she heaved them into the kitchen and emptied the contents onto the scrubbed table.

Another half hour passed as she browned low fat mince with chopped onions and garlic, sprinkled herbs into the pan and poured over a large jar of rich Lloyd Grossman tomato and basil sauce. Stirring it occasionally as it cooked, she filled a saucepan with salted hot water and brought it to the boil.

As the front door creaked open, signalling Kieran's return from college, the spaghetti had just started to soften past al dente.

She heard him pause by the kitchen door, kick off his loafers and sniff loudly.

"Fucking hell...is my nose lying to me?...Or has a domestic goddess come to stay...no way has Pot Noodle Naomi cooked a...a MEAT dinner"

As he walked through the door smirking, he got a balled up tea towel in the face, but the grin didn't falter.

Naomi was standing by the table, face flushed from standing over the cooker. A length of hair, limp with steam, flopped across her eye and she blew it away with a grimace. Piss taking she was used to...but she wanted the Irishman to appreciate her efforts.

"Very droll Kieran. You must be starving...a hard day in the classroom, feet on the desk, snoring with uneducated kids running riot?"

Kieran grinned again, tossing the damp tea towel onto the drainer.

"Horrendous" he said drily "...a mixed herd of contrary little fuckers...much as you were...unable to last 15 seconds without sexting each other their genitals or twitching like they've got the fecking palsy...?"

She didn't mean to, but Naomi couldn't disguise her answering smirk. Scarily accurate, if she remembered correctly. Cook and Freddie spent a lot of lesson time either flicking things at each other or JJ...(some of the 'things' gross and unmentionable), or sending each other lurid pictures of various victims of their adolescent seductions. And the rest of her year were pretty similar. Learning wasn't exactly high on the priority list at Roundview.

She shrugged.

"Anyway...enough of the insults. I cooked...fucking appreciate it, yeah?

She got a pang of deja vu after the words left her lips. She suddenly remembered Katie's identical words at Pandora's party, after she'd tipped £40 worth of high strength MDMA into the brownie mix Pandora's mum ended up bingeing on. A party where a couple of tentative and nervous kisses with Emily had turned into full on horizontal snogging on a bouncy castle. If it hadn't have been for Katie's lame boyfriend and his assorted special needs friends turning up, it would have led to something she wasn't sure she was quite ready for then...

But a few weeks later, by a freezing cold lake...she'd been more than ready. That was enough to shake her out of 'all our yesterdays'. Naomi forced her face into something resembling a smile.

"Right...sit your arse down you scruffy fucker...it's ready"

She busied herself draining pasta, spooning loads of mince and sauce onto the heaped plates and sprinkling a generous dusting of Parmesan on top. Kieran's eyes bulged at the hot food in front of him.

"A veritable feast young Naomi...to what may I ask is this banquet in aid of? I was getting quite used to the Pot Noodle thingy's...the one with the sludge coloured sauce was almost..."

Naomi's "_fuck off_" wasn't said with any of her usual venom, so the Irishman held fire on any more jibes. Instead, he surprised her by darting out of the room, just as she put both plates down. Her strangled "Oi!" not stopping him. But she forgave him when he reappeared with a bottle in each hand. Not whiskey this time. Instead two bottles of what looked like decent red wine.

"Got these a couple of months ago. Some fecking teachers conference in a posh hotel. The conference was shite...but a wee lass behind the jump let me liberate these two beauties..."

His eyes suddenly got sad.

"...I was saving them for a special occasion...well, you know...but it looks like this is as good a time as any to find out if the fancy label is telling the truth?"

Naomi gave him an understanding smile as she reached back and grabbed the corkscrew from the cutlery drawer.

"Here..." she offered it to Kieran, who seemed to shake off his momentary lapse.

"Right so..." he said quietly, opening the first bottle with a little flourish before filling two glasses almost to the brim.

"I think the first swallow merits a toast...what d'ya say wee girl?" he said.

They raised their glasses together.

"To absent friends" he said, clinking his glass on hers. Naomi looked at his sad eyes and blinked.

"...and the finest woman this side of Sligo...Slainte" he finished...his voicing breaking on the Gaelic.

Naomi managed to keep the sob in her throat down long enough to follow up.

"To Gina Campbell...wherever she is...cheers"

They ate the meal hungrily, both belatedly realising that a decent, home cooked meal (even if Gina wouldn't have approved of the meat content) had been something they'd missed over the past weeks. But it seemed Naomi's gesture and Kieran's acceptance was a small step back towards some sort of normality. The red wine...which was indeed a superior vintage...helped of course. Kieran drank one bottle on his own as per usual, but Naomi stuck to two glasses, mindful of her new determination to get her sad life back on track.

Afterwards, in the lounge, Kieran snoozing in his threadbare but comfortable chair, a third cigarette end burning in the ashtray, Naomi on the couch, the TV muted, flickering in the corner, both seemed to have accepted some realities tonight. Gina was still gone, but the seeds of a resumption of life after her had been sown.

Naomi got up after an hour of watching mindless shite with the sound off, made sure the cigarette end was properly out and laid a woollen blanket over the snoring Kieran. She left the lamp on in the corner, before starting to leave the room, but before she did, an impulse made her lean down and kiss the sleeping Irishman's forehead.

She couldn't remember ever doing that before, but tonight...it seemed appropriate. Shaking her head at her own sappiness, she went to bed. Tomorrow was another day...and she had many more important things to face...

XXX

Across the city, things weren't quite so placid in Chez Fitch/Stonem.

"You **WHAT**?" The twins yelled in unison, shock on both their faces. Emily had come over from Bath for the evening. It wasn't like her usual appearances at the shared apartment. No dishevelled appearance, no pin prick pupils, not even the faintest whiff of alcohol clung to her. It seemed the funeral had changed something in the youngest twins head. Tonight she showed up with a shy smile and a return to the sort of shy Emily who'd charmed Naomi at Roundview.

But after they'd shared a Chinese takeaway and chatted about uni, Katie's new job and other mundane things, Effy had decided that the mellow mood which seemed to be settling over the three friends needed to be livened up a little. She knew that even the mention of Naomi's name usually ended any conversation with Emily these days, but having shaken her other friend with the revelation about her one night stand, she knew a reckoning was coming. Naomi might have been silent after her initial text barrage, but sooner or later, the truth would come out. Effy Stonem rarely shied away from confrontation and, fed, watered and comfortably slouched in the living room, idly chatting, the Fitch twins were as docile as she'd ever get them. It was now or never...

"Ems...I thought you'd better hear this from me...?" she said slowly, watching Emily stiffen. She took a deep breath.

"I went to see Naomi a couple of days ago...you know, to say sorry about her mum...the usual stuff?"

Emily's eyes widened and she sat up, disengaging herself from Katie, who had her legs up, across her sisters thighs.

"And...?" Emily said warily. Effy rarely made chit chat...whatever she was about to say wouldn't be worthless...

"I...well...I thought she should know...about..."

This time both twins sat upright. Katie's eyes showing growing alarm about the next words out of her flat mates mouth.

The pause was as dramatic as it was long. Despite her knowing it was the right call, there was something decidedly scary about the Fitch twins staring at her intensely like this.

"I told her you and I...that you and I... slept together?"

Emily literally jumped off the couch, eyes blazing, fists curled. For a second Effy thought she might have to make a run for it. But it was the "**WHAT**?" from both women which made her physically cringe. Emily's face was pale and her brown eyes almost feral as she stood over Effy. Katie's hand gripped Emily's skirt as if to stop her searching for sharp implements in the kitchen.

For once in her life, Effy Stonem thought she might just have overplayed her hand...

But luckily for her, just as she tensed, ready to make a dash for it, Emily deflated like a pricked balloon. Her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed back onto the couch hugging herself. Katie put an arm round her shoulders and stared daggers at Effy.

"Why..." Emily muttered, unwrapping her arms, then wringing her hands together,..."why would you _do_ that Eff...I thought we'd agreed...we'd never..."

Effy blinked. Yes they had. One of the conditions of the three of them trying to get back to normality was Emily and Katie's insistence that the shagging episode would never be spoken of again. Let alone to...Naomi.

Katie piped up then

"Yes, _why_ Eff? What fucked up reason could you possibly have for doing that? It was a drunken mistake, you both said so...no one else needed to hear about it. Fuck,_** I **_didn't ever want to hear about it again. But Naomi? Jesus Eff, she'll be crushed...what do you think sh..."

Effy had relaxed a tiny bit, now both Fitch's were seated again, but she kept an eye on a handy escape route via the kitchen anyway.

"Secrets and lies" she said in a low voice.

"W...what?" Katie answered...

"Secrets and lies...isn't that why everyone's in the shit nowadays? Naomi lied about nailing Sophia, Emily lied about Mandy being straight, I lied about not loving Freddie, we're all lying about how wonderfully we're doing...having such happy fucking fulfilled lives. I'm sick of it, sick of just...being"

The twins stared at her like she'd grown an extra head. Effy Stonem, mistress of secrets...saying that?

It was Katie who spoke first, gripping Emily's hand to stop her jumping in. She could feel her sister virtually vibrating next to her. She knew that state...Emily only got like it when she was about to explode. But she wanted to hear Effy out before that happened. The Stonem girl never did anything without a reason, however fucked up the reason was...

"OK...lets have it then..?"

Effy took a long swallow of warm cola...suddenly her mouth was dry.

"It's time we all stopped lying to each other Katie?...Emily's not happy, Naomi's definitely not happy...they miss each other like crazy...never stopped loving each other, even if they kidded each other they did...and I know things got well fucked up in the end. But we all know, left to these two, they'd go on punishing each other to the end of time. I thought they might wake up after Gina...well, after she died. But instead, they've both retreated back into denial..._again_. Someone has to actually DO something. I know how Naomi thinks...she's always been easy to read. She'll be upset, hurt...but I bet within a few days, you.'ll be getting a call Emily...?"

"Yeah...one calling me a slut and never wanting to speak to me again?" Emily said morosely. But Katie felt her body relax a little. The shock therapy seemed to be working.

"She still loves you Em...you know that's true?" Katie said softly.

"So not the point ...she cheated...and I always said that's one thing I can't..." Emily said, her voice hardening.

Effy stared at the twin, not giving ground an inch.

"Yeah, yeah... and you were so holier than thou about it...but be honest Ems...you kept her hanging on for weeks...no months, like your personal live in maid...pretending you were about to forgive her...then went and dangled that giant troll Mandy in front of her, making out she was straight 'just a mate'..trying to punish Naomi enough to make her leave you...how fucking noble is that?"

Emily had the grace to look embarrassed about that little truth bomb.

She left the apartment after another tense half hour...suddenly the postprandial calm was gone...but at least she'd agreed to take Naomi's call...if it ever came.

Which is why...crouched against her locker, phone in hand and the persistent Amanda (happily no relation to the other Amanda of late…) rapidly approaching. Emily hit the green button on the phone, waving vaguely at the oncoming girl and pointing to the handset…

She wasn't quite sure the frying pan would be much more comfortable than the fire...but instinct took over...

**A little longer and more has been written for next time. Thanks for dropping in!**


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